


Baptism in Blood

by TrueTattoo



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Bloodplay, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Anguish, Multi, Physical Abuse, Pining, Post-Canon, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Stockholm Syndrome, Suspense, Threesome - F/M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2019-07-25 15:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 42
Words: 330,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16200242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueTattoo/pseuds/TrueTattoo
Summary: Post Blood and Wine.Much has changed since Geralt of Rivia had been released from prison after he let the vampire Dettlaff van der Eretein go. While visiting the Duchess Dandelion found evidence that the whole of Sylvia Anna’s childhood traumas were orchestrated by the Duchess in order to gain control of the duchy for herself. A coup was staged, and Damien de la Tour is currently in control of the duchy. With the help of Yennefer of Vengerberg, he is holding the duchy together till the Emperor can arrive and set up a new line of succession for the storybook state.With Regis having been gone for close to a year Geralt held out little hope of ever seeing his friend again, but when a new conspiracy comes to light, this one deeper, more insidious than the previous, Damien de la Tour pulls Geralt from retirement. Regis and Geralt are tasked with one of the toughest battles they will have to face.(PIECES AND PARTS OF THIS STORY ARE BEING EDITED FOR SPELLING AND GRAMMAR, NO MAJOR CHANGES ALL MINOR )





	1. From Past to Present

**Author's Note:**

> First journey into the Witcher fandom... and what a doozy. Fair warning. This story contains instances of rape, gore and violence, mental trauma, talk of suicide, actual suicide from a major character, and many many more things that can and will be triggering. If you like the Witcher you won’t be a stranger to it, but these things are driving forces behind the narrative and I don't want them to catch anyone off guard.
> 
> I have a Beta reader now and the story will be adjusting as we fix issues here and there with spelling and grammar.

Chapter 1: From Past to Present

It was the same… always the same. Pain, burning, light flashing. He knew he was strapped down to Sad Albert, and everything hurt. He was screaming, there was blood.

He could see him. Vesemir. Just out of view. He asked if he wanted to continue, said they could stop. He wanted to say no, but his mouth worked for him and said yes. He couldn’t escape from it. A cage, pain, and fury, he saw the sword. Saw it’s silver length glistening in the light of magic, it came right for him Vesemir’s eyes wide and dark. He Screamed.

Vesemir recoiled. There was blood everywhere. All he wanted to do was to move to rip the man’s throat out. That sword flashed towards him again and he felt the pain of the silver and howled.

\-----

Geralt awoke with a start his heart pounding in his chest a thin sheen of sweat covering his body. His fists were buried in the sheets and he was half out of the bed. Quickly looking around he realized he was safe in his home in Toussaint. Groaning Geralt took stock of his surroundings.

His bed was a disheveled mess from what he could see of it. One leg was bent and still on the mattress, and his flailing had sent one of his good pillows into an inkwell on his desk. There was a dark black splatter on the wall as well as a small dripping noise where the ink had begun to pool on the floor. His swords had been tipped over from the chair they had been leaning up against and were spread haphazardly on the floor. 

Geralt licked his lips. Instantly his eye’s shut. Blood was there. His blood. The coppery taste was just shy of repulsive as he explored his mouth and lips with his tongue to take stock of the damage. Swiftly healing cuts graced the insides of his cheeks and his lips. Geralt groaned. These instances were happening more and more as of late. Groggily he went through his head to figure out how he wound up where he was, to take stock of the events that were set to begin today.

Geralt had been partially retired for going on a year now. For a year he had lived in this estate, and for a year he managed to only take on local contracts. It had been over four years since Ciri had prevented the cataclysm, three of those years were spent on the path directly with Ciri, coaching her. Re-training her. Forming her into the best witcher he could make without the trial of grasses. She was currently panning on wintering with Yen, and attempting to forge a relationship with her estranged father in Nilfgaard.

The swift takeover, and return to peace after Nilfgaard took over Velen and Novigrad, was staggering. With Radovid dead the final flag was thrown and Nilfgaard set about immediately organizing trade routes through the whole of Velen. Emhyr had managed to not only win the war, but he managed to keep his usurpers at bay. It was something Geralt had not expected of the man, especially with his lack of Ciri at his side.

Geralt had a permanent room at the Chameleon at the time when a strange notice had been posted asking him to meet some envoy from Toussaint. This turn of events lead him to where he currently was. 

Not all was well in Toussaint. Geralt met an old friend long thought dead… Regis. Regis at it turned out had a very intimate connection to the murders he had been brought to Toussaint to solve. After he and Regis had managed to solve the murders, the young vampire Dettlaff, the sword of said murders, killed the Duchess of Toussaint’s older sister in a rage. The end result of that was three months spent in a prison by Geralt. Regis and Dandelion of all people managed to cajole the duchess to let him out.

After being let out Geralt and Regis approached the duchess, and informed her of the plot on her life. The duchess wouldn't believe them. In turn Dandelion of all people set off a string of events that lead to a military coup, and landed the duchess under lock and key at the palace in Beauclair. She had been there for 9 months awaiting trial. 

It was guard captain Damian del la Tour who currently presided over Toussaint. Damian had worshiped the ground the duchess walked on. He was smitten and in love with her, so it turned out , were many others. When Dandelion brought him a collection of writings from the household staff, and eventually the duchesses personal diary's it had sealed her fate with him. Dandelion in turn got in contact with Yen and informed her in serious tones that the Duchess was incapable of ruling. The coup was swift. And wanted. 

The Duchess had a very public breakdown at a tournament where much of the populace was attending. Her subsequent rants about all people being beneath her upended Years of traditional thoughts and actions, and put a tarnish both on the Heron and the knights errant that attempted to protect the duchy with their fairytale like proclamations and actions. The populace happily praised Damian and his men after learning how cruel and callous Anna Henrietta had been. 

Yennefer was sent to advise Damian to keep the Empires interests at heart as the duchy recovered from the coup. When she arrived she found out straight from Damian himself that he had no interests in ruling the duchy, and would enjoy to be relieved post haste. She also got word of the trial Geralt had been put through.

She didn't wait one minute to grab the reward that Geralt was owed and opened a portal to him. Geralt remembered just coming in from the fields and being a filthy mess. He had just heated a tub full of water using igni and was standing in the heated water attempting to pick a sticker out of the fuzz on his chest when the porthole opened. 

In one smooth motion he lost his footing in the slick wood bottomed tub, cast yrden, and pulled a whole tray of strong smelling oils into the bath water where he landed in a pile of naked limbs. The sound of Yen laughing at him in slow motion would haunt his nightmares. 

He quickly regained his composure, released the sign, and grabbed a towel for the remaining dignity he had left.

"Well at least you have attempted to learn to bathe since I saw you last." Yen quipped trying to hide a smile.

That brought to mind their last meeting.

 

The last time Geralt had seen her he and Ciri were months deep into tracking a monster. They hadn't bathed in who knows how long, and personal upkeep had taken a back seat. Yen and him had a long sit down to sort through all they had left when the djinn had released the bond between them. 

Yen's heart had been broken into a thousand amethyst pieces when Geralt said he had felt nothing. They had quarreled at Kaer Morhen, which wound up with Geralt being teleported into the middle of a lake. In general everything, was pushed aside, ignored, packed away, and left without seeking true closure. Once he and her finally sat down to speak, she admitted that the bond for her had broken that day as well, but having no true experience with familial love, she interpreted what she felt as romantic love. She had equated it with sitting in a house while it was snowing with a mug of hot tea and a warm fire. Safe, comforting, warm, and familiar. She informed him through teary eyes and a mud caked face. She said she felt as if he were her brother.

She then informed him of what he had suspected was taking place from the get go. Yen told him about Emhyr. Geralt held his tongue as she spoke of him, and the affair that she had been carrying out the whole time they had been searching for Ciri. He let her finish, and then told her flatly that he knew. He knew the second that she told him to “Report to Emhyr” that something was going on between them. And her lack of wanting to speak on the matter when he approached it several years earlier confirmed it.

This of course upset her and also intrigued her. He informed her that other than the occasional visit to the whore house, he really had no interest in anything bed wise. Questioning immediately started flowing about his previous conquests in a manner of matter-of-factness that caught Geralt off guard. Geralt had known that she was going to treat this as one of the biggest mysteries of the age, but she had dropped it as Ciri had come back into camp with a beautiful roe deer for dinner. 

He and Yen would occasionally touch base from that point forward through letters or through Ciri. So her arrival in his bedroom was unexpected as it was welcomed.

When Yen informed him that she would be coming back and forth between the duchy and Vizima for the foreseeable future Geralt was surprised and delighted. After he had dressed himself Geralt introduced Yen to Barnabus, his majordomo, and Marline his cook. 

After introductions Geralt and Yen lunched in the garden. And Geralt caught Yen back up to speed on the goings on in Toussaint. Yen was extremely surprised to find out that in his short time in Toussaint Geralt had managed to dig himself a neat little niche among the aristocracy. He filled her in on all of the goings on that he knew of, most of which could prove invaluable to yen as she advised Damian.

It was then her turn to inform him that the emperor would be traveling from Vizima in a show of solidarity to elect a new duke, all the while visiting places throughout his realm in a tour of sorts.

A swift knock at the door blasted Geralt out of his Memories. Barnabus quickly shuffled into his room carrying a small basin of water and a rag.

“I heard you making a ruckus in here again.” The man said without preamble. “I figured I may as well have the supplies ready.”

Geralt flipped himself over his elbows and forehead resting on the floor.

“BB, what would I ever do without you.” Geralt groaned pulling his leg that had been on the bed, which was now asleep, under him. He wobbled a bit waiting for the pins and needles to subside.

“It’s a wonder how you ever functioned without me in the first place.” The Majordomo said candidly reaching down to help heft Geralt up. “The fact of the matter is, you need to look your best today. The Nilfgaardian envoy is arriving today. 

Geralt Groaned and let Barnabus lead him to the chair. He sat down with a huff and unconsciously kneaded his knee, which had never been quite right after it had been crushed. The Pain had been becoming less over the years, but on days like today it pained him. 

Geralt grunted.

“What is the plan for today?” Geralt went over the cuts in his mouth again with his tongue.

“Well first thing is first.” Barnabus scoffed. “You tore your lips open again, so we must get them cleaned up. Second thing is second. We need to give you a close shave, you know those Nilfgaardians and their scoffing at unwanted body hair.”

Geralt sighed. 

“Now that I can take care of it, I actually enjoy having a beard.” Geralt groused.

“Having a beard or not having a beard makes little difference to me. Yennefer left specific instructions to make sure you were clean shaven and presentable.” Barnabus said taking the rag dipped in alcohol and dabbing at Geralt’s lips. “How do you keep doing this? I would have accepted that you were hungry in your sleep the first time. But this has happened several times now.”

“Well my canines are sharper ‘cause of the mutations.” Geralt said feeling his teeth with his tongue. “I think it’s just nightmares.”

“Yes Just nightmares.” Barnabus groused putting a small dab of white honey on the rag. “Nightmares that cause you to look like you are chewing on the business end of a morning star. Geralt, you need to speak with someone about these nightmares. You need to ask Yen about them, or someone. One morning I am afraid I will come in here to wake you up and you will beat me to the point where you can’t tell where I end and the rug begins.”

Geralt grunted. It was a real possibility. He had seen the reactions of men who had been shocked from war. The fact that he hadn’t had serious issues along the same lines over the years surprised him. He chalked it up to the Witcher mutations and let it be.

A shuffle at the bedroom door and a small quiet gurgle stopped both men in their tracks. Geralt blinked. 

A large crow stood in the doorframe blinking at Geralt. 

Barnabus just looked from Geralt to the crow.

“You know I should be surprised.” Barnabus drawled ripping his eyes from the large corvid and starting to mix some shaving oil. “But I find this is par for the course.”

Geralt whistled and called the crow over. The large corvid hopped over, talking in much the way crows talk, gurgling and mimicking.

“Now who do you belong to?” Geralt said reaching down to allow the bird to perch on his arm. “I know two people who use crows as familiars.”

Geralt scratched under the feathers around the crows neck. The crow made a satisfied chattering sound and it’s feathers poofed up. While the crow was enjoying the attention Geralt looked for a message on the birds leg. There was none.

Geralt sat back stumped. The crow looked at him and began chatting in a familiar voice.

“Mandrake, honeysuckle, hops, beautiful plant, beautiful bird.” Geralt dropping his arm in surprise and the bird flapped over to the door again indignantly calling between words. “Beautiful bird, find him. White one”

Geralt sat staring at the door as the crow called out and hopped back outside to take off.

“Your neck sir.” Barnabus drawled causing Geralt to start and hastily adjust his position. “What was that about.”

“I am guessing Regis is back in the area again.” Geralt said his mind a whir. “Only one person I know besides Yen trains crows to work for them, and that’s Regis. Yen uses northern crows, ones that are smaller, the southern ones are huge.”

“Ah Master Terzieff-Godefroy” Barnabus intoned dragging the straight razor along Geralt’s face. “It has been a while since we saw him last. He left shortly after you got out of prison to seek out his friend did he not?”

“Yeah, last I had heard, he was heading towards Vizima to seek out Dettlaff.” Geralt said a familiar envy sneaking into his voice. “He hasn’t contacted me since.”

“One would hazard a guess, here,” Barnabus said as he leaned over to shape Geralt’s sideburns. “Vampire’s perception of time, verses your perception is likely vastly different.”

“Or he got himself into trouble.” Geralt groused. “Even when we traveled with the Hanza, and he was considered the most level headed of us… he still had a knack for getting into trouble. Also he is young for a vampire. Only 400 or so. I have just passed the century mark myself, and no one is quite sure how long Witchers live.”

Geralt settled in the silence. The honest truth was likely that Regis was still feeling guilty over everything. Hell Geralt himself was still feeling guilty over everything, despite Regis telling him that there was no way he could have known he was alive. The crow brought things he had buried for another time to light, complicated things. Though he had left on a good note and a long talk, there was something else. Something Geralt was feeling that he couldn’t put his finger on. Geralt’s world had always been stark black and white, and when he was faced with gray ideas, he didn’t have any idea what to do with them. Part of it was the mutations; part of it was the teachings. Try as the witchers might to remove any emotional reaction to things, all they did was create a mask, and a batch of lethal killing machines that really did feel all these complicated things everyone else did but had no names for them. 

Geralt spent much of his time as an early witcher in wide eyed wonder at every interaction he had with people. He heard “You are a witcher you would never understand” more times than he could shake a stick at, but somewhere in the back of his head was a voice that said “I would if you explained it to me.” Vesemir did well in that respect with the men as they got older. He fostered the idea of empathy among the Witchers after the sacking of Kaer Morhen, something that Geralt had leaned on heavily during his travels.

A warm rag was dropped on his face bringing him back to the present.


	2. Preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys just a reminder. Dyslexic and I have no beta reader! If you catch things lemme know!

Geralt had spent the better part of the morning and afternoon prepping for the evening. The first batches of the Emperor’s envoys were coming to the palace and he had been requested to be in attendance. Ciri had stopped by momentarily to visit with him quickly and have a bite to eat before she headed to the palace. Geralt couldn’t help but smile at her road worn leathers and her dual swords sticking off of her back. She was caked from head to foot in road dust, and what must have been the leftovers of a Centipede. She talked briefly about Yen, and Ciri’s personal distrust for the Emperor, but had also praised him for not forcing her into anything. She absolutely refused to be in anything but her armor at all times, even during state functions, to the point where he had ordered a set of “Formal leathers” for her that met her specifications, but were only used during special events.

The ball tonight was supposed to be formal, with all the fanfare, but it wasn’t going to be anything like the Emperor’s ball that was planned for Emhyr when he arrived in a month. Already people were arriving into Toussaint who were prepping for the big event. Ciri also relayed that the Emperor wanted to host a tourney, something that Geralt was actually looking forward to. She left with a proud looking knight who was to show her around the palace grounds and left Geralt to his own devices. 

Geralt adjusted the lace fringe popping out of his shirt cuffs. The doublet he had chosen to arrive at the palace in was made from a spiders silk. The color was a beautiful dark aquamarine with bright yellow accents. The thread itself came from a very common garden weaver, and was a bright uniform yellow when woven together. Geralt had needed a set of formal outfits, but none of them he had ever tried or had even had made for him fit right or gave him the range of movement he needed. The year of working his farm, being fed, and in general taking care of himself had caused him to fill out even further. He was no longer Lanky and lean from the near constant state of starvation he had lived in for many decades, instead he was well fed, he worked hard, he kept up his skills, and the end result was even more pinching from the Doublets he was subjected to on a weekly basis.

He finally commissioned the best tailor in Toussaint Pierre, and Elihal from Novigrad to come up with a solution. The end result was this piece of work. The Spiders silk was strong, stronger then regular moth’s silk, which was saying something. It also had give, and stretch, which meant that Geralt’s poor armpits were saved from pinching. It had taken the two close to a month to come up with the idea, and another two to farm enough silk to make the thing. They were in the process of making several more, and experimenting with different spiders. This was the first time he had worn the outfit in public. When he approached the bridge to the palace all eyes were on him as he lead Roach across, his swords strapped to the horse’s side as opposed to across his back. 

“Good evening Geralt de Corvo Bianco, Yennefer of Vengerburg is waiting for you in the east wing drawing room.” Geralt dismounted and handed the reins off to the valet. Roach instantly attempted to nibble at the feather on the Valet’s hat as he lead her off none the wiser.

Geralt quickly passed through the palace, having become more then familiar with it, and found his way to the east wing drawing room. He was announced and the doors were opened. Inside Yennefer was leaning over a stack of papers and Ciri was sprawled out on a couch her swords on the floor and an arm over her eyes.

“Do not wake her. She hasn’t slept in nearly three days and I put her to sleep for a few hours before she has to be back up again.” Yennefer’s voice carried across the lavishly decorated room. A small snore caused Geralt to smile as he looked over to Ciri.

When he looked back up Yennefer was studying him with narrowed eyes.

“That outfit?” She said eyeing him up and down.

“This outfit.” Geralt replied his eyebrows rising slightly.

“It’s satisfactory,” She said looking back down to her papers. “And a clean shave, I am guessing Barnabus had to wedge you into it while you were drugged so he could shave that beard off of you.”

Geralt walked over to a table with some fruit on it, and popped a raspberry into his mouth. His amulet vibrated and it carried utter perfection with it, which meant it was magically created.

“Something like that.” Geralt said popping some more of the raspberries into his mouth and enjoying the flavor. “I actually had it commissioned, if you could believe it.” 

Geralt couldn’t help preening a little as Yennefer looked up at him like he had grown a second head. 

“It’s made from Spiders silk, especially for me, by Pierre, from here, and Elihal from Novigrad.” Geralt said popping the raspberries over the tips of his fingers. “I was sick of being forced into something that was guessed at, and I needed something with give. Elihal came up with this idea based on some old elven books that Dandelion had gotten ahold of about the traditional methods of weaving for the elves. Apparently the golden orb weavers that the silk comes from have an added benefit as the strands of their silk are extremely strong. If someone came after me with a knife, Dagger or sword, the strands would catch it, and it wouldn’t cut. It would bruise the hell out of me, and I could still be bisected by blunt force, but the doublet would be intact.”

Geralt was unusually proud of this garment, and planned on telling anyone that asked about it the whole story behind it too. It was armor and a great piece of formal wear in one. He glanced over at Yennefer, who was smiling as she looked up at him a mischievous glint in her eye.

“I am guessing that Pierre came up with the styling.” She said chuckling to herself as she looked back down to the paper she was working on and began to cross through some things and add her own notes to them. “Geralt, do you know of the deal that was struck between the palace and Fabricio of Castel Ravello?”

Geralt snorted. The Palace had agreed to send him some of the exclusive Sangrial wine in exchange for his services, this of course before all hell had broken loose. They had yet to deliver the exclusive wine.

“Yes, a year back when me and Regis were looking for Syanna we incidentally discovered that Fabricio had been selling the wine to outside sources for years.” Geralt groused popping one of the raspberry’s from his fingers into his mouth, causing Yen to grimace. “From what I understand, his punishment for doing so was instantly dropped the moment Anna Henrietta was imprisoned. He was seen as a victim of circumstance by the duchy and everything was left at a standstill.”

“What do you think about the matter?” Yen said continuing to look down and carefully mark out and re-write things on the parchment in front of her. “As a fellow vintner, how do you feel about them continuing their contract with the palace after all that was revealed?”

Geralt thought on it popping another one of the raspberry’s in his mouth. His sense of justice was always fierce, but so was his sense of empathy.

“I think a punishment still should be meted, but in a way that wouldn’t harm the vineyard itself.” Geralt said wrestling with what he wanted to say. “They already produce some of the best, and heavily exported wines in the world. Knocking them down would actually have a lasting effect on the whole of the duchy, and to Nilfgaard itself. To the point where one of the biggest things that Nilfgaard exports to places like Zerrikania, Hakland, Ofir, Zangvabar and elsewhere is the wine that they produce.The Sangrial itself, having tasted it, is a very excellent wine, with a very unique flavor. I could break down what is in it easily, but it’s status as something special means that it has been coveted. The fact that the Sangrial had been kept for just the duchy itself also speaks to me of silent rebellion against Nilfgaard.”

“I am still absolutely astounded at how someone like you who made a point to wave your neutral flag at anyone who would see it, has managed in a span of several years to not only abandon that way of life, but to be so thoroughly entrenched in politics that you would likely make most of the court in Nilfgaard proper sweat.” Yennefer said her eyes narrowing and her pen stopping.

“As it turns out I like wine.” Geralt said shrugging. 

“So what would you do about it?” Yennefer asked pointedly annoyance creeping into her voice.

“I would silently inform them that they needed to make a tribute to the emperor.” Geralt mused popping the last couple raspberry’s in his mouth and licking his fingers. “Say fifty barrels a year, enough that it would only be used by the royal family, you included, and for extremely special personal occasions. Allow the Empire to pay for it, to offset the costs, but just opening up access to it for the Emperor is going to raise eyebrows. To top it off I also suggest auctioning off ten barrels a year to the general public. The money for which should be instantly turned around and given to Nilfgaard to use for reconstruction. Orphanages, temples of Melitele, schools. Ambassador Henry var Attre would be the one I could consult with to figure out where the money could best be used in reconstruction.”

Geralt looked at Yennefer. Her usual mask had dropped and she was biting at her lip deep in thought. 

“Geralt, there is something I need to speak with you about that has nothing to do with this.” Yennefer motioned with her hands standing and letting her pen rest in the bottle of ink. “Things are starting to come to a head here. Which is good. Peace time politicking is always a chore, but it is necessary. But there are things happening outside of politics which I need to discuss with you. Important things.”

Geralt crossed his arms and regarded the women, who looked for all the world like she was wrestling with herself over what she was going to say.

“Witcher things?” Geralt asked, causing Yennefer to wince.

“Yes, in a matter of speaking.” She said pinching the bridge of her nose.

Geralt regarded her coolly. 

“Talk then.” He said his iris’s narrowing as he regarded her and crossed his arms. 

“I have gotten ahold of some information. Things that you should see.” Yennefer said wringing her hands. “There isn’t any sort of rush, and it can wait till after Emyhr leaves back on his tour. The Imperial library is much more vast then I expected, and there is information there which I would like you to see.”

Geralt eyed Yennefer and tasted the lie in her words. 

“Have you spoken to Eskel recently?” Yennefer asked causing Geralt to lower his brows.

“Not any more than usual.” Geralt said not missing the cryptic look on Yennefer’s face. “He sends me letters and posts every so often. I haven’t gotten one in a few months. Which means nothing really. Mostly it’s just updates on where he is, and the contracts he has fulfilled. He did write about wanting me to winter at Kaer Morhen again in the coming years. He has apparently never strayed far, and has taken up where Vesemir left off.”

“I see.” Yennefer said looking down to her papers.

“Why not ask me about Lambert?” Geralt asked tilting his head with a small grin sneaking it’s way onto his face.

Yennefer scoffed and paced behind the desk.

“He is so far up Keira’s skirt it’s a wonder he is able to breathe.” Yennefer spit. “Not that I mind their relationship it’s just…”

“She got a Witcher and you didn’t?” Geralt’s mouth ran ahead of his brain sometimes.

The cold stare he got from Yennefer was completely ignored as the feeling of being watched prickled the hairs up on Geralt’s neck. Geralt suddenly abandoned the conversation and walked quickly over to the window and threw it open. A blast of wind washed through his hair as he glanced out below. Just birds were outside. More crows. Their black bodies in stark contrast to the white marble of the palace. Geralt sniffed the air. The smells of the city and the cooking pits below, carried a thick scent that made Geralt’s stomach constrict. Outside of that, just enough to bother him was something familiar. 

“What on earth are you doing Geralt.” Yennefer yelled causing Geralt to turn and look back at the raven haired women. Paper was scattered all over the floor and ink had spilled from the table. Geralt took another deep breath.

“Is it supposed to rain?” Geralt said again turning to look out the window.

He felt a buzz of his amulet as Yennefer quickly cast a spell to clean up the mess. 

“I will teleport you out of here and into that lake.” Yennefer snarled. “No, no Geralt it is not supposed to rain.”

“It would be nice if it did though.” A sleepy voice yawned. Geralt looked over from the window to Ciri, who now was stretching languidly on the couch. “It’s awful hot here this time of year.”

A rap at the door turned all three sets of eyes. 

“Come in.” Yennefer drawled as Ciri sat up and Geralt closed the window. 

Damian del la Tour walked in flanked by two guards. Geralt nodded to the man who nodded in return. Damian’s scar covered Face was tense as the doors shut.

“I did not realize Fringilla would be coming.” He stated taking up a spot near the couch Ciri was sitting at.

“Neither did I!” Geralt and Ciri spoke at the same time looking at each other.

“The Emperor has her on a short leash.” Yennefer said casually looking at Del La tour. “She is technically the last remaining direct relative of the family. Ciri is here because the duchess is her cousin, several times removed, as is the Emperor. Because Fringilla is barren, Ciri is not going to want to rule anything it seems, and the Emperor is… well… the Emperor. All the Family gets a say in who takes over as Royals. We have found some promising prospects here in Toussaint, as well as elsewhere for the potential to take over the Duchy.”

Geralt shifted uncomfortably noting that Damian was furiously writing something down. He had a brief fling with Fringilla many years ago on his search for Ciri. Of course he had been charmed into it, but that didn’t change the uncomfortable thought of confrontation. It also didn’t change the large but buried amount of anger that boiled still from her betrayal to the lodge. He glanced over to Yen, who was looking at the window and winced. This was beginning to get more complicated than he had bargained for. 

“You know this would all go over much easier if you had opted to take the post, Damian.” Yennefer drawled as she crossed her arms. “You are related, through some distant cousin down the line, and the offer still stands.”

Damian snorted his accent becoming thick in his agitation.

“It was bad enough first having to be the guard captain,” He said his pen not slowing down. “And bad enough second to be forced into the position of impromptu leader, and bad enough third to realize that everything that women had told me had been a lie to manipulate me into loving her. No, I am done with bureaucracy after this, as much as I can be. I will take over my family’s estate, find a humble spinster who has some spunk still left in her, and retire to the tower where I will re-establish my family’s pastime of making Moreno wool. Sheep’s shit at this point smells better then this whole farce.”

Geralt laughed earning a slight twitch, and a momentary glance from De La Tour. His steal colored eyes and mustache crinkled in a small smile.

“If you think retirement is the end to all your problems, then you are in for a rude awakening.” Geralt groused pointing to himself with a thumb. “At this point I feel like my retirement is more of job then the path was.”

“As pleasant as it is listening to you two men bemoan your lot in life. Us women have to prepare for the night.” Yennefer said smiling and helping Ciri up off the couch. 

“That’s actually what I was really here for.” Damian said flipping back a couple of pages in his notes. “The ambassadors have arrived in the city and are currently touring before the ball. They should be here within the next two hours and then the celebrations shall start. Lady Yennefer?”

“Geralt do not cause any trouble while I am gone.” Yennefer said taking Damian’s arm as he hastily stowed the notebook. “Ciri, keep an eye on him.”

Ciri grinned in response and Yennefer groaned. When the doors to the drawing room opened, instantly Damian and Yennefer were swarmed by scribes, secretaries and various palace staff who were currently in crisis. Geralt mouthed “Good luck!” as Yennefer turned back around with an exasperated expression. The doors slowly closed.

Ciri’s musical laughter broke Geralt out of his thoughts.

“Come, lets make our escape and get a little pre-ball prep of our own done.” Ciri said walking over to a bookcase. “We’ll move around behind the walls. They are already on edge because I have been placed as a part of palace security for the night, they will be even more so when I am able to move around without them seeing where I am going.”

“They are on edge constantly anyway since the Beast, a wise idea, but their direction is wrong.” Geralt said as the bookshelf opened to a simple dark hallway. “There is a movement building with loyalists. I can literally point every one of them that is going to be here out. But they are ignoring them. In the long run it won’t likely be a problem, but it is still the problem right now they should be dealing with.”

“I think their direction is right actually,” Ciri said darting into the hallway and causing Geralt to pause. “The amount of vampires I have encountered here is staggering. In all walks. Farmers, Bankers, stall owners, there are a couple at the whorehouse down by the docks, which I took advantage of.”

“I have noticed the uptick too.” Geralt said confusion leaking it’s way into his voice. “But by and large the ones I encounter are mum about their reasons for being here, or are residents of Toussaint. This place used to be a vampire farm several hundred years ago. After the Vampires learned that blood was best taken from free folk they more or less set up Toussaint to be a free range blood bank. They allow humans to run everything for the most part.”

“That’s just it, for the most part.” Ciri said guiding Geralt through the dark passage. “I have reason to believe that the duchess was not only a manipulative bitch, but she was the vampire mouthpiece. Without her here, and with her sequestered, the vampires are blind. Now they too are nervous about the future.”

“Good theory, no proof though.” Geralt grumbled the gears in his head beginning to turn. “Wait, did you sleep with one of the vampires??”

The coy look and the giggle Ciri gave answered that question.

“One of the whore’s I mentioned. A lesser vampire. A bruxa.” Ciri said without any preamble. “She knew who I was, apparently, the vampires hold you in high regard for sparing one of their own. I asked her what the vampires thought about all of this. She said outright that the lesser ones could really care less about the situation because their lives don’t change from political intrigue to political intrigue. She told me however that she was passed from one higher vampire to the next after the beast of Beauclair incident, which was an oddity in and of itself as exchanges of lesser clansmen are rare unless something like marriage or death is involved, and that her current master was extremely pensive about what was going on.”

Geralt rumbled out an affirmation as he walked behind Ciri. His knowledgebase of vampires inner working despite having been friends with one for years, was sorely lacking. If Regis was around he was going to have to sit him down and get some answers about all of this. Warning bells had been silently tinkling away in Geralt’s brain since he arrived in Toussaint. He felt like he had been swung around on a wild rope with a predetermined destination. Questions suddenly came to his mind he had been suppressing in the amazement that his friend was still alive. Why was Regis in Toussaint?

Geralt bit at his lip in habit, which made him wince and grumble. He knew Regis had traveled here with Dettlaff, but before they had traveled here Regis and Dettlaff had made mention that they were in Nazair. They had obviously not come back to Toussaint because of any letters about the kidnapping, they had come here for other reasons. The Toyshop Dettlaff had established, and the lab that Regis had established were worn, used, and loved by both vampires for quite some time. Geralt felt his mood darkening. 

“Do you ever feel like some of the most obvious answers have been in front of you the whole damned time.” Geralt groused as Ciri stopped at a door. “Ciri, I think I have been glamoured.”

Ciri stopped fiddling with the door her green eyes wide and sparkling even in the dark.

“How do you mean?” She said concern evident in her voice.

“I think Regis glamoured me.” Geralt hummed thinking. “I think he has been in more trouble then he has let on, and he needed me to not ask questions. I can’t imagine any other reason why I would have not questioned ANY of what happened. Or have gone along with it.”

“It’s completely possible.” Ciri said turning and opening the door. “But not likely, as a witcher you were designed to know when those things were happening.”

“But we were also told to avoid higher vampires like the plague.” Geralt said stepping into the well lit and decorated bedroom. A Solid weight had settled itself over his shoulders. “I could write a book you know. A book on how much we weren’t told.”

A sour mood veiled over Geralt as he tromped over to the bed and sat on it without preamble. The clatter on the ground caused him to look over. His swords were there. Too many feeling were rushing through him at once. Hopefulness that Regis was around again, and then a sudden souring at the fact that he was so involved in the human political end of things, that he never even stopped to consider the vampire end of things. His head had begun to throb and his hands found his hair.

“It’s not all that bad Father.” Ciri cooed sidling beside him. Geralt looked at her his yellow eyes weary and hers green and full of life. “Regis is a good person. He wouldn’t use his powers against you. If he did he would likely feel horrible about it and let you know. I will let you know that there is a large amount happening that you don’t know about, things that I myself have only scrapped. But I promised a friend that I would wait till they could talk to you about it before I made my piece known. I do not think Regis would keep you in the dark about something unless absolutely necessary.”

“Is it to much to ask to be let in on the secrets first?” Geralt groused and relaxed as Ciri put her arms around him. “I have spent the last 20 or so years of my life chasing after what I don’t know. I thought it was behind me.”

Ciri squeezed his shoulders instantly sending some of the tension that had been building out of them.

“You were given a chance to rest and recover.” Ciri said simply. “Under threat of death Yennefer said that you were to have a year of nothing. You had literally be running on fumes for years now. I can see the difference in the year that you have had ‘off’ you don’t look malnourished, your skin is hydrated, if a little pink because of the sun, your eyes don’t have bags under them. Your hair has gotten longer and for once is all one uniform length. You look younger.”

“Haven’t exactly been off the whole year though.” Geralt said. “I have kept myself in shape, and I handle monsters and such here in Beauclair.”

Ciri laughed and stood up, crossing the room in a few strides to a screen behind which was a tub. Geralt could hear the armor hitting the floor as she stripped, and a small magical pulse in his necklace as she heated the tub. He reached down and picked up his swords from the floor.

“You have been fighting monsters here in Toussaint.” Ciri said her head peaking out from behind the screen. “Which is actually the primary thing you and I need to speak of Witcher to witcher.”

“Am I not allowed to fight monsters by Yennefer’s order?” Geralt Mumbled peaking over to the women who had her hair undone and it was obviously full of mud, twigs, and who knows what.

“Hardly.” Ciri snorted making a face then popping back behind the screen. Geralt could hear the water as she stepped into the tub.

“I have spoken to both Lambert and Eskel recently.” Her voice called over the screen as the sound of scrubbing could be heard. “I have also been in close contact with Letho, Berengar, and a few of the other stragglers. By all our counts we are down to twenty witchers, if that. “

“How do you figure that?” Geralt asked his interest perked. “And I thought Berengar had disavowed being a witcher.

“Simple, I asked.” Ciri grunted the sound of a comb tearing through hair filled the room. “And Berengar, is an interesting Kettle of fish. He told me after you two fought Azar Javed that he had a crisis. He actually had wandered for a while and wound up in a place called Nazarovo after traveling south and east through the Slovegia gate. It was a mountain town in a nice flat valley, who’s chief export was brown coal. It was relatively new and was formed in union by the dwarfs and humans. He said the wars hadn’t touched there, near as much as they had elsewhere, and that the town was a bastion for elves, dwarves, and humans who stumbled upon it.”

“What brought him back?” Geralt asked taking his sword out of the sheath and grabbing an oil rag that rested on Ciri’s bedside table. 

“Turns out Letho had come there shortly after the battle with Kaer Morhen.” Ciri grunted still pulling at her hair behind the screen. “Him and Berengar had their hands full. The monsters that have taken that area over are fierce, and make the ones we face look puny. They are short on things like Necrophages, but big ones, Gryphons, Rabid trolls, Elementals, hybrids, and in such numbers that the city was in a constant state of struggle. They said it had gotten worse and worse until Berengar showed up. Berengar had started working, first as a miner, but on an especially bad night of attacks he went out and informed people he was a witcher. He began to train people how to kill the monsters of the area.”

“When Letho showed up he commissioned him to stay for a bit to get the populace trained.” Ciri continued. “Whatever they did it worked, and the monsters that do attack are usually torn to ribbons by their trained populace. Berengar left the small city behind to travel with Letho because he needed to re-supply, and where they were received little if any trade. He again wore his two swords on the road, and decided that Witchers, though made in a shitty way, were needed. I think Letho helped knock some sense into him though I wasn’t able to get to many details past that point.”

Geralt hummed in response running the rag down his blade. 

“Anyway, between us nearest we can tell, there are only twenty of us.” Ciri said. “There are 5 wolves, Myself, you, Lambert, Eskel, and Berengar. There are several cats left, though finding them is harder as they have gone to ground. I have found the location of three though their names are unknown to me, Eskel knows of a fourth, and there is another who I met named Brehen.”

Geralt snorted.

“Brehen is an asshole.” Geralt said causing Ciri to laugh. 

“He is at that, however, without the backing of the cat school, and his infamy he has made a name for himself as a simple hunter on the outskirts of Toina.” Ciri said finally sitting back in the bath and relaxing. “There are 6 bears left. All of whom have been in contact with Eskel, The leader of the group is named Gred. They all still try to upkeep their small school in the wilds of the dragon mountains.”

 

“There are two Vipers left, Letho, and Ivar.” Ciri said as a sweet aroma began to filter through the room. Geralt recognized it as Gardenia and Summer Jasmin. “There are also two Griffin school witchers left. Both of them were traveling together when their school was sacked. Both of them in their first years. They have attempted to keep with the teachings, but they had no guidance. Their names are Walter, and Terry.”

“How did you find them?” Geralt asked Finishing up polishing his silver sword and put it back in it’s sheath. 

“They came through Vizima.” Ciri said. “Looking for contracts, they had heard that I was seeking out our fellows. If there are others out there hiding, they are doing so well.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Here with your dinner and your armor ma’am.” A small voice called from outside the room.

“Come in, set it on the table and bring the armor here.” Geralt watched as a mouse of a women moved into the bedroom. She looked momentarily startled as Geralt stood. The women was short. Very short. Geralt was a tall man, but not the tallest, and he towered over the women by a wide margin. She was small, skinny, no curves to speak of, and middle aged. She was also human, though Geralt couldn’t wrack his brain around seeing a human so short in recent memory. She however had a hidden strength. The armor was draped over her arms, and the food rested on top of it. 

The thought of food made his mouth water as watched the women shuffle over to the table and set it down almost having to reach upwards to do so.

“Why is he here?” The mousy voice asked almost sounding like a child’s as she continued around behind the screen.

“That is my Dad.” Ciri said, the simple words causing Geralt’s heart to swell in his chest. No matter how many times he heard her say that it always brought a true and secret joy to his mind.

“Ah, Geralt then.” The voice said. “Nice to finally meet the man that took the title from Duny.”

Geralt laughed as he walked over to the plate of food. When he looked down he was instantly shocked still as he looked at what was on the plate. He had not seen this meal in years. Mushrooms and greens, and a “Dressing” that was anything but. This was one of the recipes given to the boys during the trail of choice. Geralt stole a couple of the mushrooms from the plate the momentary bitterness of the poison present in the mushrooms soon overpowered by their meaty flavor. 

“What’s the meaning of this Ciri?” Geralt asked around the mouthful of food.

Ciri popped her head around the screen this time scowling. 

“That’s mine, no more.” She said glowering. Geralt popped another mushroom in his mouth for good measure. “Yennefer agreed to let me start eating like this again. Been doing so since shortly after I left you. It made me sick at first but not nearly as badly as the first go round. I got used to it, much like last time.”

Nostalgia washed over Geralt as memories of the spunky child popped into his mind at Kaer Morhen. A pang in his chest and a slight vibration of his amulet let him know he was overdue for a visit. He hadn’t wintered in Kaer Morhen in years, to the point where the little niggling feeling in the back of his mind to return had turned into a physical pain.

“That doesn’t explain why.” Geralt said looking pointedly at her.

Ciri scowled before withdrawing behind the screen again.

“I wanted to.” She said “I got interrupted the first time when Triss said that it was harming my “Womanly traits.” As I have collected all of them, I figure it was safe to start again.”

“You do realize that these are to prep you for the trail of grasses.” Geralt said abandoning the plate much to his stomach’s dismay. “Vesemir was the only one that had even an inkling as to how that worked.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t feel more a part of the process, even though I can’t progress past this point.” Ciri said tartly. 

“Fair enough.” Geralt shrugged going over and grabbing the swords and beginning to fasten them to his back. He had the Scabbards adjusted to match his ensemble, really it was just paint that could be later washed off, but it made things complete. He had left the swords with stable hand knowing they would get to where they needed to go. Geralt may not have been an official part of security, but he knew Damian would want him armed, just in case. Ciri stepped from behind the screen and was in all of her armor but her boots. Her hair hung limp and damp around her face.

“Geralt if you would.” Ciri called Geralt over to the table he had just been eating at. Geralt knew what Ciri wanted him to do, and he hadn’t done it in years. A warm familiarity washed over him as he picked up a brush and comb and began to brush through Ciri’s hair while she attempted to stuff her face with the meal. With practiced movements he tamed the untangled hair and sorted it into strands. He braided a circle around the woman’s head the braid getting thicker and eventually he wound it around itself and secured it with several pins. It was still damp, but as it dried it wouldn’t come down.

“I am surprised you remember how to do that.” Ciri said around a mouthful of the salad. 

“I will never forget having to brush it out before I knew how.” Geralt groused leaning over and gleaning another mushroom from the plate while Ciri attempted to smack him. “The fact that you wouldn’t let me cut it short infuriated me at the time but, once we realized Lambert was losing his hair we knew the parasite population around Kaer Morhen would drop to zero, so I learned to braid instead.”

“Only you would say that.” Ciri laughed.

The little mousy women who had been gathering up all of Ciri’s belongings and making a quick pass at the room stopped in front of them.

“I am going to have these cleaned and repaired miss.” She said her arms over encumbered with boots, leathers, tunics and socks. “Geralt, it was nice to finally meet you.”

The warmness of her voice was not lost on Geralt as she opened the door. Someone was behind it and stumbled as they reached for the handle. The mousey woman deftly weaved her way around the large man in armor as he got his baring’s.

“Announcing lady Yennefer of Vengerburg.” The man bellowed straightening.

“And apparently this man has been commissioned to follow me around and announce my presence.” Yennefer huffed as she strutted into Ciri’s room. She was wearing an elegant ball gown “Ugly one… you needed to have been ready by now.”

Ciri had finished her salad and with a mouthful of food she bounced over to the bed and quickly slid on her “Dress” boots.

“Ok ready!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More set up! More fun!
> 
> Here we go!


	3. The Contract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the introduction of old friends and new problems causes Geralt to rethink where he stands.

Geralt, Ciri, and Yennefer showed up to the ball and were all announced by the same man in armor who was following Yennefer around. A second one had joined them, a scribe, and they trailed after Yennefer like puppies. Ciri split off with a quick hug to Geralt, and told him she was going to find Damian to see what kind of mischief she could get up to. Geralt too was following Yennefer till he got distracted talking to Liam and Matilda who had just officially been married. After sorting out their issues and making them realize how they were both being stupid, the marriage wound up being a political force in Toussaint. They only had Geralt to thank for it, and thank him they did. Since that point he had struck up a friendship with the couple, and between them under table they had helped him get supplies to be able to start producing his own wine in the hopes that trade between the four vineyards in their respective care and cross pollination could help create newer and better wines.

Once Geralt had separated himself from them he realized that Ciri was playing a game of Gwent with some of Del la Tour’s men, and Yennefer was in a conversation with the Nilfgaardian ambassador to Toussaint. Geralt attempted to come over but a sharp look and a wave of her hand let him know to make himself scarce. That left him his favorite haunt at these things. The food table.

It also left him alone with his thoughts. The thought of the crow, and then the smell of rain earlier in the day was prickling at his mind. Geralt frowned as he started to pick through the table, meats, cheeses wines, some of the local crayfish, olives, and other small foods. He had missed Regis terribly over the past year, though he wasn’t about to admit it to anyone. Of all the people he had reconnected with after the conjunction, Regis and him seemed to fit in a pattern. He could just talk to the vampire, and his sudden disappearance after Dettlaff took off had stung him.

He popped a prosciutto covered piece of cheese drizzled in some kind of fig reduction, and couldn’t help the small noise that escaped his mouth. It was perfection, and non-magically made, it was the real deal. He popped three more of the things in his mouth when a new smell joined the cacophony of scents floating around the ballroom. Writing it off as a fluke he looked back at the table only to see something black and approaching just out of the corner of his eye.

Geralt did a double take when he peered over the hors d'oeuvre table and black eyes caught him from across the room. The crow from earlier in the day had warned him that Regis was around, but what struck him dumb was the polish of the man walking through the room. The man's hair had grown thick once more and the dark color had returned, leaving only a few silver streaks. It was partially tied up with a small leather band, but some of the strands had escaped and were wisping this way and that at the movement of people. He still had his sideburns but they had been trimmed neatly. Gone were the traveling clothes and the leather duster, instead they were replaced with a beautiful doublet in the Nilfgaardian style. Black silk and velvet contoured around the vampire’s chest and shoulders, highlighting the broad but lithe expanse. The fabric was subtlety embroidered with crows outlined in silver and their detailed bodies done with black silk thread. The neckline was high and a dark silver lace peaked through the opening of the collar. The pants were black as well a stripped pattern of silk and velvet alternating around the legs. The loose fabric was gathered just below the knee and dark silver laces showed the contour of the muscle in Regis’s leg. The shoes held the same pattern of his doublet and had a small riding heal covered in velvet The dark colors suited Regis to a tee, and helped highlight the robustness that had come back to the vampire in the year he had been away.

Geralt honestly felt like a gaudy bird as the vampire approached his eyes not breaking contact. Some sort of internal panic had taken him over as he watched the vampire approach in graceful steps. All around Regis people were moving and talking. Laughter flitted into the room along with a band of strings playing an upbeat tune that had some of the ball patrons dancing in an informal way. Geralt could have sworn the room had silenced itself. When Regis approached and stood within arms length Geralt went mute. 

"I see that life off the path has served you well in the past year." Regis said, causing Geralt to swallow whatever hors d'oeuvre he had popped in his mouth before the vampire appeared. "I also see that my messenger did not adequately prepare you for my appearance this evening, and for that I sincerely apologize."

In a flurry of movement Geralt finally broke the spell around himself and lurched, crushing Regis in a hug that caused the vampire to oof in momentary discomfort. The spell was broken, the rush of sound hit Geralt like a wave. 

"I know every time we meet I say this, but gods it's good to see you alive and well Regis." Geralt with a breath of relief patting the vampire on the back and the pulling him apart to inspect him. "You look even more healthy then the last time I saw you. You look like yourself!"

"Yes, but at much cost." Regis said his smile wistful and sad. "There are a great many things that have happened to me since my journey split with yours over a year ago. I did not get a rest like I had been planning, but that is a conversation that had best be had later. For now tell me what has happened in Beauclair." 

Geralt released the vampire and launched into the explanation about what was going on, and the absurdity of the situation after Regis had left and Geralt and Dandelion had gotten the Duchess arrested. Geralt grabbed a plate and a toothpick and piled some more small bites on the plate offering some to Regis as he made his way along the table, all the while explaining everything. Regis for his part was amused and astounded at the news. 

The natural flow of conversation as they moved had lead them out to one of the sparser balconies. Geralt had leaned out of the political end of the talk and was now full into an explanation of his first attempted barrels of Corvo Bianco spiced muscadine he was currently aging, as well as thicker more robust red he planned to have aged in such a way as to compete with est est. Regis as well had begun to be animated. Distilling liquor was a favorite past time and thus he had much to talk about as the two of them strolled out onto the white marble balcony. 

The vibration of Geralt’s amulet caused him to tense up, stopping the conversation in its tracks.

"Ah there you are." Yennefer called her violet eyes stormy and her expression tense. "You couldn't have picked a worse time to dislodge yourself from the food table. We need to speak, in private, now."

Yen’s clipped tones raised Geralt’s eyebrows. 

"Ok, come on Regis." Geralt heard the intake of breath from Yen and his amulet about jumped off his chest as Yennefer made a magic sweep of the area. 

"Madam Yennefer of Vengerburg." Regis leaned over completing a perfectly flourished bow. "You are as always a beauty, and your visage is a titillation to all the senses."

Regis locked eyes with Yen as he stood. Geralt could see the rising blush through Yennefer’s makeup and the telltale tang of female arousal filled the air. Geralt snorted, a twinge of jealousy creeping into his thoughts, though over whom, and what escaped him at the moment.

"Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy" Yennefer said holding out her hand which Regis took with great relish and kissed. "Flattery will get you everywhere." 

This time Geralt groaned in frustration.

"Could we not?" Geralt blurted crossing his arms. 

"Petulant as always." Regis said locking eyes with Geralt and smiling just enough to show a little fang. Geralt felt himself heat up, and attempted to fathom what it meant when Yennefer brushed herself off and linked arms with Regis, effectively leading them back into the ballroom. 

"The last time we met, you and I were under duress." Yennefer purred. Geralt followed behind. The two of them made a very striking pair. All the black and white and gray, and Geralt had to admit that Regis's court manners were top notch. 

"Yes, I was Drunk, you were frantic, injured, and in general not of a good mind, under the best circumstances that would make for quite the strained introduction." Regis intoned as he made polite nods to people in passing who were now watching the pair with interest. "However the fact that we get to rectify that travesty, warms me to the core. Yennefer of Vengerburg the pleasure is all mine." 

Yennefer turned to look over her shoulder at Geralt, who was pointedly staring holes in the back of Regis's head with a sour expression on his face. When Geralt looked at Yen he pulled an annoyed face. The grin she broke into made him scowl further.

"Also I make it a habit to annoy Geralt when any chance presents itself." Regis said earning a snort from Geralt. 

"What brings you back here?" Yennefer asked her tone guarded. "Last I had heard, Geralt hadn't heard from you in a year, he would never admit it but you had him worried. No letters, no anything?"

It was Geralt’s turn to be alarmed as he felt his amulet start vibrating. Yen’s hands had Regis’s arm in a death grip, and from the vampires sudden wincing expression, he could guess that he was in no small amount of pain from the magical pressure.

"As much as I am remiss to say, the bulk majority of the time I spent away was tracking Dettlaff." Regis said his voice polite but strained. "I was off grid as it were, and when I finally got back to civilization, his rescue took precedence. I did keep my ear to the ground to make sure Geralt was in good standing, and I kept my crows around. I would have turned and come back instantly had anything been amiss."

"I see." Yennefer said her eyes dark. "You do understand of course that Geralt has lost a great deal in this past decade, including you once. I know about the blood bond you have with Dettlaff, but my lack of understanding about higher vampire bond hierarchy is something that needs to be rectified starting with this." 

As they stepped from the ballroom into the grand foyer Geralt felt the magic pinch again. He scowled.

"Yen don't." He said simply stepping up to them. His stomach twisted in odd knots. This was one of the burning questions on the forefront of his mind. Yennefer must have gleaned it from him. The helpless look Regis gave him made him scowl.

"Do not 'Yen' me Geralt." She said her violet eyes stormy and dark as she stopped above the grand staircase. "I have a barrier up. No one can hear our actual conversation. Regis can not apparate from here as I have also cast an interest spell to keep people glancing at us from time to time. If he does people will instantly ask about the man it will also not be pleasant for him as we have at minimum created spells in the recent past enough to inconvenience vampires, even higher ones. If he attempts to flee he will be sundered. He has been a creature of many mysteries for to long, and a wildcard amongst our group. He owes us, and YOU of all people more explanation on things then just 'it's complicated'"

A cold fury gripped Geralt as he reached to seize Yennefer’s arm to pull her away. When Regis raised his own to halt him he stopped short still boiling. 

"I concede, Yennefer." Regis said a small bit of fear lacing into his voice causing a husky edge. "Again your reputation of being a fierce opponent precedes you. I will answer what questions I can here, but you must understand that some of what you may ask need to be taken elsewhere."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." She spoke again the humor gone and replaced with ice. "Now talk." 

"Bonds between higher vampires are complicated." Regis started his eyes darting away to look at the crowds of people meandering up and down the staircase. "We have familial bonds, those between parent and child, and those between siblings. These are much like human bonds though there is the added benefit of a slightly psychic connection between us. Its vague amorphic. A parent can tell for instance that a fledgling is hungry, stressed, scared, and content. A sibling can tell the same so they can offer comfort. The feelings come across in a general sense and nothing more."

"Regis you don't have to do this." Geralt said earning an icy stare from the sorceress which he pointedly ignored. 

"No Geralt, this explanation has been a long time coming." Regis said sad determination in his eyes. "We then have tribal bonds, these are even looser. There is a general ability to make ourselves known to our tribal kin, which can be blocked willingly. It can also be used to call to all of our kin for assistance, and it can be used to contact our elder. The elder alone can use this connection to sense the whole of his tribe down to the individual member. In the past before my time it was considered rude to shut yourself off from this connection, but when our species passed into this plain of existence the elders found it impossible to maintain the connection between us over such large distances. It was exhausting, and so the rule was loosened, and its now considered courtesy to only open the connection in times of duress or great need."

"That must be who you were hesitating to contact during our attempt to stop Dettlaff." Geralt said his slitted eyes widening.

"Quite right friend, quite right." Regis winced when Yennefer tightened her grip again to remind him she was there. "There are three other bond types actively in use which are specifically created by individual choice and can be initiated outside of species boundaries. The first of which is a pack bond. The pack bond is one made between friends as well as relatives and lovers. It can be multifaceted or one sided. It is created using the ancient magic of my people, but it can be broken with a word or thought. Its a bond that is meant to allow pack to inform each other of location and basic needs. The bond again can be shielded at will, and without an acknowledgement of the bond from all parties it can be one sided. One sided pack bonds, or ill understood pack bonds will allow the initiator to vaguely sense where others are, and their emotional state. It will also allow those within the initiators range to vaguely sense the emotional state and location, though without a solidification and acknowledgement of it, the feelings are so vague they can be written off as coincidence."

Geralt’s eyes met Regis's as understanding began to dawn on him. 

"The Hanza..." Geralt breathed as the sadness he had not permitted to let himself feel for years cascaded deep into his chest. Regis looked away and screwed his eyes shut. A small but visible shake ran through Regis as his posture began shrinking against Yennefer. Yennefer lost all pretense of anger her expression becoming distressed as the magic hold she had on Regis slipped. 

Regis took a second to school his features and then continued his eyes opening and looking into nothingness.

"The second is the bond of blood." Regis spoke his voice taking on an edge as he held his emotions at bay. "The bond of blood was formed by vampires, and then by humans and vampires by imbibing in the blood of willing participants. In order for this bond to form, both parties, or more if the situation demands it must be in accord to share the blood willingly between them. It was born of necessity out of harsh times on our home world when there was pestilence, famine, or extreme injury. The bond of blood allows access to each other’s emotions like a family bond, and it can be formed across species boundaries. Our blood by its very nature has fantastic healing properties when ingested. It is a narcotic, and it can create interdependence. However for those of us who are willing to risk it, it creates a bond as close or closer then family, tribe, or pack bonds. This is the bond that Dettlaff and I share. For a Vampire to sacrifice its blood to another is a great undertaking. Less so here, but on our home planet it was something done with almost more care then choosing a mate. When two decide to share each other’s blood it is almost ceremonial in nature. Again this bond can be turned off, and it can be rescinded, but it is a lot harder to do so then the pack bond" 

Geralt allowed himself to pack away the sadness momentarily as his brows furrowed. A quick glance to Yennefer showed her doing the same. 

"What is the third?" She asked her voice softer than it had been.

"The third is the most obvious." Regis said strength returning to his voice as he looked up and addressed Yennefer directly. "A mating bond. This involves more than just blood as coupling must be happening during the process. Of the many bonds we have this one is the least understood, but the most desired among my kinsman. It involves a whole host of things, hormones, pheromones, blood exchange, fluid exchange and a magical element we have yet to fully pin down even though we have studied it. It can again, like all bonds, cross between species but this one can only pass between two, and further can only be passed between those who are on a similar sentience level. So I am sorry Geralt, as much as it pains me to admit it, you would be unable to live out your dreams with Roach."

Yennefer burst out into laughter the weight that had been over the trio had been lifted as Geralt frowned in confusion. When Geralt glanced at Regis and Regis smiled back at him slyly it finally sunk home.

"What Roach and I have goes beyond a vampire mating bond." He said fake pouting as long as he could before he couldn't hold it anymore and started to laugh. Regis just smiled a twinkle in his eyes as Geralt reigned himself in.

"Does that answer your questions for now lady Yennefer.”

"For now." Yennefer drawled stealing a meaningful glance with Geralt. "Let us continue our journey."

Geralt was lost in his own mind as they continued onwards. The thing about the bonds has stuck him to his core. He knew that there had to be something going on outside of a normal adventuring party when they had formed the Hanza. The fact that everyone in it had agreed to travel together with not much fuss was a miracle in and of itself. The memories of that time caused Geralt to wince.

He looked up when he felt eyes on him. Regis was casting a knowing look his direction. Geralt could feel his mouth moving upwards at the look. 

That brought about another revelation. The blood bond. Regis had stressed that the blood bond could be platonic. And a blood bond is the bond that he and Dettlaff had shared. Not a mating bond. Regis also had said that he had a mate at one point. A true mate. That meant that even though they were powerful a mating bond could potentially be broken. Without lasting effects? Geralt couldn't surmise. 

Dettlaff was also a part of Regis's pack. Geralt could feel his brows screwing up in concentration. He wondered to himself if that meant that their could be overlapping pack bonds. Being a part of more then one. He shook his head minutely when he decided that having an overlapping boundary like that was sure to cause tension so it probably wasn't done. However Dettlaff was a part of Regis's current pack as well as a blood bonded. Geralt could feel that he and Regis still shared a connection as well now that it was pointed out though it was weak and wobbly and he never could have imagined it was anything other than his own thoughts.

Did that mean that Dettlaff and he were in the same pack? 

Geralt ran into Regis's back before he knew the Vampire had stopped, causing Yen to look over at him with a brow arched. 

"Geralt, I wouldn't think on it to much if I were you." She drawled. Geralt scowled at Yennefer, and the woman shrugged. He hated when she read his thoughts.

Geralt watched as she pulled the door open and Damian was inside waiting as was a messenger who stood perfectly still and didn't acknowledge the entering party.

"Good you are here." Damien said flatly casting a curious look to Regis as Geralt shuffled him through the door and shut it. "And this is?"

"Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godfrey." Yennefer supplied.

"Ah the one the missive told us about." Damian said jotting some more notes down. 

"Wait, what?" Geralt choked.

"Sit down all of you." Damian said motioning towards some plush looking chairs and couches.

Geralt pointedly looked at Regis who had a stony expression on his face. A slight nod from the vampire towards Damian made Geralt look up.

"Ok, what is this about really?" Geralt snapped feeling frustration starting to build. 

"First let me explain to you something that Yennefer and I have been dealing with." Damian said motioning to Yennefer.

Geralt could feel a barrier go up and his amulet vibrated faintly as Yennefer cast a spell to make sure no one was listening in. He cast his eyes over to the courier who was still standing in the same spot unmoving that he had been in when Geralt entered. 

"Can he hear us?" Regis asked looking to Yennefer. 

"No, he cannot, and with good reason." Yennefer said simply sitting down and crossing her legs. 

"Good." Regis sighed and visibly relaxed causing Damian to raise a brow.

"Are you not to report to your master when we are done?" Damian asked raising a brow. 

"Not any more then I absolutely have to." Regis said . "Contrary to that letter I am not Elder Farccio's errand boy. He is not my master though I do live under his tribal rule. I am my own, and have been for some time now."

Geralt listened in rapt attention.

"Be that as it may I trust that what we say in these walls will remain between us?" Damien asked. 

"Yes, absolutely." Regis said simply.

"Good. Under normal circumstances I would have you swear on the heron, however now is not the time for ceremony." Damien said sitting himself down on a stool and flipping through the pages of his notebook. Geralt was starting to fidget. He never liked sitting still for long.

"When Dandelion brought me Anna Henrietta’s journals, there were prompts in them, mysterious messages and grousing about a benefactor that she had to obey." Damian started. "At first we had thought it was the Emperor and had set the idea aside to deal with the fact that Anna was a traitor to the crown and a psychopath. After we had her imprisoned, and Yennefer had arrived, we began to delve into all of the documents that belonged to the duchy. In among those documents were missives from this "benefactor". After tearing through them, and in some cases translating them, we learned of the existence of a Vampire enclave that has existed here since the last conjunction of the sphere's. At first I didn't believe such a farce. We knew of the existence of vampires, as bruxa, alps, katakans and others have been written about and spotted here in Toussaint since the duchy had been established."

"I didn't however believe in a form of Vampire that was on par with our intelligence, as they had not been witnessed, at least to my knowledge. However my mind was changed when Yennefer informed me that there was indeed a form of vampire, higher vampire, which ruled over the rest." Damian said looking pointedly at Regis. "I had found out from Anna Henretta that the attack on Beauclair that had shed light on Anna Henrietta’s betrayal had been orchestrated by a true higher vampire, who had been manipulated by Syanna."

"This is true." Regis stated his fingers playing along the edge of the velvet on his trousers. "Dettlaff van der Eretein is a very close friend of mine."

"Does he pose any threat what so ever to Beauclair or Nilfgaard?" Damian asked his mustache twitching slightly. "And is he still in the area?"

"No he does not." Regis sighed looking straight at Damian finality in his words. "Dettlaff is a young vampire even compared to me. His threat was a one time thing caused by Syanna's betrayal. He is a bit of a loner, and an outcast even by vampire standards. After the attack on Beauclair he fled north to Vizima, he was captured and tortured by the order of the flaming rose. I eventually found him and with the aid of a witcher got him back. I brought him back here to our enclave to be healed. Though he is recovered enough to resume life, he insisted that he go to ground."

"Go to ground? Explain that to me." De la Tour said focused in rapt attention on Regis. 

"We gain strength from the quietness of being encased in earth." Regis explained his body tensing. "Some of your druids do something very similar; they encase themselves in small alcoves to meditate. In a vampires case we go to ground to heal, and to think when we get overwhelmed. Generally once we go to ground we shut ourselves out from others so we can think, and rest without being overburdened. When it comes to our own species we are empathetic to an almost psychic level and in the chaos of this we can sometimes loose what is or isn't our own ideas and thoughts. So generally we go to ground to find ourselves."

Regis rolled his shoulders. "He has gone to ground for two months and barring a catastrophe I don't see him resurfacing for quite some time. Parts of the unintended consequences of his actions were the killing of children, which he specifically ordered those under his control not to do. He specifically asked them to pass over families that had children; however some of those supposedly in his thrall disobeyed. Dettlaff in human society is a toy maker and has been on and off since about 970. He loves children, of all species, human, elves, dwarfs, and our own. He finds his greatest peace when he is whittling away at wood with the hopes to see that single moment of joy when a child receives one of his toys. That is why he has gone to ground. The idea that he has by proxy killed children eats deep at him. He is of no threat to anyone at the moment, other than those who have disobeyed his orders."

"That being said in one of the missives we have discovered there was a pact, both political and personal between the Duchy, and one Orianna, who is only ever referred to by first name.” Damian continued. “She has apparently had the deal to keep an orphanage around for the duchy for a few decades, the deal was originally struck by the duke Francois."

Geralt could feel his stomach twisting in knots. When he looked at Yennefer her lips were pursed, and Regis had leaned over and was resting his lips on his hands. 

"About fifteen years ago Anna Henrietta began some sort of deal for a supplement that the orphanage shipped to her on a monthly basis. A great amount of coin was donated to the orphanage by the duchess’s personal coffers for the delivery of said supplement." Damian said pulling a small vile out of his pouch. Geralt looked at the vile curiously as Damian handed the vile to Regis. "Please open it, and tell me what’s in it." 

Regis hesitated with all eyes on him as he removed the cork from the small vile and drew it under his nose. Regis hissed and in a movement to quick to see he had it re-corked. Geralt could see his claws tense as he reached into his satchel and drew out a sweet smelling kerchief and put it up against his nose.

"Blood, specifically children's blood, female." Regis said his voice cracking as he breathed the smell of his kerchief. "Around three to four years old. Healthy and robust. Other ingredients include lavender, mandrake, and some very specific higher alchemy ingredients, Rubio, and white honey to name a few. A warning would have been nice."

"This confirms my suspicions." Yennefer said drawing out another vile. "Please Regis, no blood in this, but have a sniff."

Geralt could smell the telltale smell of Yennefer’s favorite scent filling the room as soon as the cork was popped. Lilac and gooseberry's flooded his senses as Regis took a cautious sniff.

"The chemical composition of this is nearly identical." Regis said closing his eyes and smiling slightly. "Better made though, you managed to find a female mandrake at the height of maturity, and the quality overall is leaps and bounds over the first."

"Thank you Regis." Yennefer said a small look of pride sweeping over her schooled features as he corked the vial and handed it back to Yennefer. “What is in my vial, as Geralt already knows, is a concoction that was created specifically by mages to stop aging. Upon my examination of the blood vial, I could detect the magic used to specifically made the anti-aging Serum. This Serum is a very closely guarded Secret among Mages, the men tend to stop their aging when they are in their early 40’s, while as female mages we tend to alter our appearances with Magic first, and then allow the serum to hold the forms we choose. We Won’t die or anything if the Serum is taken away, we will just resume aging as we were. The fact that a non-magic user has gotten ahold of this is disconcerting because it means that there is a very large possible leak regarding our secrets.”

“This brings me around to why we are here, and why you are here Geralt.” Damian said looking at Geralt.

“The Vampire, Elder Farccio, has specifically requested Geralt to track down and Kill by any means necessary, The Bruxa Orianna.” Damian opened up the contract. “He says that she has gone rogue, and though she is but a Bruxa she holds a great amount of the vampire’s higher and otherwise under her thumb. He says there will not be any resistance from any of these vampires, and no one should get into his way, but she is a cunning women. She is old, and as vampires age, power comes to them. Her power is on the same magnitude as a young higher vampire, though she is mortal and can be felled. He states that he has been unable to track her for a year. He then goes on to inform us that he is sending one of his kind to assist you Geralt, in any way possible.”

Damian motioned to Regis who nodded slightly.

“Now, let me tell you what is actually happening.” Regis said straightening up and standing.

“I have known Orianna since I was a fledgling.” Regis said. “My mother held her under our family’s power, and she worked for years as a nursemaid for me. She bought her way to freedom as is her right, and she gained notoriety early on for championing the “Free range” Human style farming. She insisted that Human thrived in safety, but that they also thrived and in fact needed chaos to feel alive as a species.”

“Eventually after the original caretaker of Toussaint was imprisoned for overhunting,” Regis said casting an eye to Geralt as he spoke. “She took over.”

Geralt nodded, his memories of the pages in Tesham Mutna coming to the forefront of his mind.

“Vampires, for all our physic connection non-sense, are very private.” Regis said pacing as Damian took a seat and watched the vampire. “Not wanting to really bother with it, we allowed her to take over of the Toussaint farm to rule over as she saw fit. She would occasionally receive orders from the elder himself, and relay those orders to those in charge of the duchy. Eventually as the idea of human farming fell out of favor all together, she was left swinging, and sore and still attempting very hard to keep her nose above water. Around a century ago she decided that she was disenchanted with the vampires as they had taken a very “hands off and leave us to our business” approach to life here on the continent. She enjoyed power, very much, so she started to get involved with the aristocracy in Toussaint.”

“She has switched Identities several times now, and as soon as she got her estate, she took it over as “Sister, daughter, aunt, or some other distant relative after letting it settle for several years. Eventually having very little access to the blood she loved best without raising suspicions, she decided to take her farming idea on a micro scale and open an orphanage, and in turn her very own winery as it were. It was opened about 30 years ago under the name of La Compassion Orphanage.”

“Unfortunately we did not realize the extent of her operation both in Toussaint and elsewhere.” Regis said pulling out a small folded map from his satchel and laying it on a table. There were several x’s marked on the map with various cities circled. “She has made big business out of this, orphanages. And it likely would have stayed under the radar, but during the attack last year on Toussaint, a rogue Garkain and his pack attacked “La compassion”, and killed all those within minus one. The members of his pack, having no want to enrage Dettlaff, or anyone for that matter, approached one of the higher vampires in hiding in the area, and they in turn relayed the information to the elder. The elder is afraid of being discovered more than anything else, and the idea that a lesser vampire has been running a business that specifically runs the risk of discovery on such a large and open scale, Right here in Toussaint, set his blood to boil.”

“And that is exactly what happened.” Damian said simply. “After the attack on Beauclair an anemic little boy was found collapsed down a main road running to Beauclair. We are in general a caring bunch here in Toussaint, and the helping of unfortunate children is high on our list in keeping with our chivalric duties. He started telling wild stories about the place, and parties. He was very enamored with Orianna. It was one of the worst cases of Stockholm syndrome I have seen in all my years. Lucky for him, he was a child, and would readily chat about anything and everything that went on there with the right person. At first this matter was handled by the local enforcers, but it was brought to the ducal guard when it was realized that it could potentially be a matter for a witcher.”

Geralt Sighed.

“That’s all well and good, but it seems a little late to be bringing me in from the perspective of a potential vampire attack.” Geralt said leaning forward. “From the vampire perspective, why they would even contact me for something like this is extremely unsettling for a myriad of reasons. From the Duchy’s end you should have contacted me the second you knew.”

“From my end Geralt, I have to say that the elder getting involved and requesting you is entirely my fault.” Regis sighed. “Orianna had contacted him on my behalf in the eventuality that we would need his help to solve Dettlaff issue.”

“I may be partially retired, and that retirement affords me one thing.” Geralt snapped his voice growing cold and distant. “I can decide for myself who’s side I lay on. I have, and will always side against monsters, and your Elder is the epitome of what a monster is, and one I can’t touch. You can’t tell me that he didn’t know about Orianna before this, as she was the one brokering deals between the other higher vampires and himself.”

Regis winced. 

“Why would I take on a contract from him.” Geralt seethed momentarily feeling more anger at Regis then he had felt in ages.

“If not from him then take it from us.” Damian interrupted. “The fact is Orianna is a child murderess. She needs to be reined in. You are to be commissioned by the duchy as well to go after her.”

Regis’s eyes searched out Geralt’s. He recognized the pleading, he recognized that there was more, but the idea of Regis being under someone else’s control cooled him to the core. In the few short minutes since he had found out what the bonds were and how they worked, he now knew his friend answered to a higher power and it made him seethe. Regis looked ready to plead his case but Geralt held up his hand stopping him.

“How much?” Geralt growled reigning in his anger for the moment.

******************************

The negotiation had been tedious; Geralt had let everyone know in full that Witchers were raised with the instruction that they were never to mess with vampires. Regis kept quiet and watched as the negotiations his hands working at the satchel and tightening any time Geralt bounced back with another number. Geralt could feel the tension between them, but here in this room was not the place to air grievances.

When the amount was agreed upon and everything was solidified, Yen dropped the barrier. Geralt Stood and watched as Regis went over to the currier and began speaking in a dialect Geralt didn’t recognize. The currier answered back in monotone in the same language. Regis quickly wrote something down on a piece of parchment and with a practice ease pricked each of his fingers and a spot on his palm with his teeth and then placed it on the parchment. It let off a glow and Geralt’s amulet vibrated.

Geralt couldn’t help snorting and pushed Past Regis and the currier not so much as giving a backwards glance. He quickly exited the palace feeling the anger building back up as he strolled into the humid night air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for sticking with me.
> 
> Finally Regis makes an appearance. Again this is long and winding. So if you are looking for a quick fix this ain't it. I am writing this fic for myself, so yeah... fun times.
> 
> Again, don't have a beta, I am dislexic. If you see errors lemme know and I'll fix em up.


	4. Torn Asunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt leaves the contract negotiation Irate with his friend. When Regis tells him why he is actually there, and where he has been Geralt can do nothing but listen as his friend paints a grim picture of his time spent away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS WHERE SHIT STARTS GOING DOWN.
> 
> Rape, torture, blood, all ahead in this chapter. Trigger warning. Big fucking trigger warning. You have been warned.
> 
> Also lore and world building! yay!

The Ball was in full swing now, and the small amount of people that were outside in the gardens were only taking a momentary breather. Deeper in the Gardens it was quiet, with only the murmur of the distant ball filtering through the trees. Geralt could hear Regis following him, the small clicking and the groaning strain of leather followed him like a metronome.

He could hear the vampire taking his first breath since the palace and stopped, turning around.

“Geralt, please…. Listen.” Regis pleaded.

“Regis, I was not born yesterday.” Geralt snapped trying to keep his breaths even. He could feel anger edging into his words and his posture. “What is really going on. I believe that your vampire master wants Orianna dead, as much as I believe there is pots of gold at the end of rainbows. You have kept so much from me.”

Regis quickly made a motion with his hands and Geralt his amulet vibrate felt the air around him still.

“Geralt, Let me explain…” Regis started.

“Let me explain Regis.” Geralt snapped his yellow eyes glowing. “I traveled with you for years, I let you see the deepest parts of me, after much trepidation. I trusted you to not lead me wrong, but as it turns out you have lead me on. Innocent vampire trailing behind me content to steer me around who he is and what he is doing. You can recall every Instant of our interactions. You know my favorite food, you know my injuries. Hell you knew my bowel movements. You could literally recite who I am to my core my deepest fears, my greatest triumphs, all my flaws. With you? It’s like looking at a shell.”

Regis reeled back as the words hit home. Geralt continued stepping forward.

“I finally saw your facade break for the first time ever in Toussaint. You had counted me as a friend, but in your years recovering forgot that never once did I see you for who you were. You kept up the act of a dotting friend and peace keeper. In Toussaint I finally got a taste of that. Of who you were, what you were. You were unguarded in your actions, but when I learned the depth of how vampires are ingrained into society, I couldn’t help but pause. Every damned chance I have given you to explain who and what you are, and how it works has been politely danced around, either by coincidence or separation. Now you are sitting here saying that somehow it’s your fault that the vampire Elder holds interest in me? Needs my services?”

Geralt reached out and gripped Regis’s shoulders as the vampire winced recoiling backwards.

“You left! For over a Year.” Geralt said his grip tightening, he could feel the anger twisting and shattering into something different something that was like what he felt in Kaer Morhen when he saw Vesemir die, or when he found Ciri’s lifeless body. “Before that it was nearly a Decade! You didn’t let me know you were alive, you didn’t even attempt. Do you know how harrowing it’s been for me? I watched you die! You know the only thing I could say afterwards was ‘He was a good friend, I will miss him’? If I was to say any more I would have… I… ”

Geralt made a pained sound and pushed Regis away. That feeling of exquisite agony was twisting around, he knew it had a name. It was grief but grief for someone that was alive, and he didn’t understand it. He stumbled towards a tree and leaned up against it his elbow chaffing through the thin material against the bark. His breath was coming in shallow pants, and the whole of his chest and shoulders were burning like they were on fire. 

“Geralt.” Regis choked his voice thick with emotion. “ I am sorry.”

Geralt felt the anger and helplessness rear back overtaking the grief again. He needed to do something, anything. He was burning up from the inside, he wanted nothing more then to loose himself in a fight, to release the tension. 

He felt his body move before he gave the order. A roar filled the night air and Geralt’s fist shattered the trunk of the white oak he had been leaning on. He spun around to face Regis rage in his eyes. 

“You will stop this foolishness at once!” Geralt barely registered the split second of fear on Regis’s face when his world turned on end. His face suddenly felt like it was on fire, and he had landed against the still falling oak. Geralt could hear it fall, and feel the blood tickling down his face and eyes. His head was ringing. He attempted to stand only to be held firmly in place by Regis.

“You idiot!” Regis hissed as Geralt began to struggle. 

“Get off me.” Geralt groaned his head still swimming from the hit.

“No, you will sit here and listen.” Regis hissed placing a single hand on Geralt’s chest. “I am being watched, and have been watched for decades, if not the past few centuries. There are very good reasons I didn’t contact you, and very good reasons I have been unable to speak with you about what I truly am. Every time I have gone, I held the hope that by letting you go I would save you from this. The truth is I had been watched, watched since I was in that blasted gang. The elder has watched my every move through his spies, which I have only just recently been able to keep at bay. They watched me to watch me fall, when I fell, they thought for sure I would rebound and they would be able to take their energies out on me in Tesham Mutna or worse.”

Geralt could feel his eyes widening as Regis winced. 

“When I didn’t fall they watched me reform, berating me, belittling me, and tempting me.” Regis spat. “It took close to a century to wean myself completely of blood due to their temptations. Then do you want to know what happened? I started to age. A Vampire aging, it’s a laugh and a half, but they sat there, watched me, and belittled me. I started living my life as if they weren’t there. In my stupidity I stumbled upon you, and thought I could keep you safe by not saying anything. Do you know how many laws I am breaking by speaking to you about us vampires? I am likely to become the only anathema of our kind that hasn’t killed another of our kind.”

Geralt could feel his head starting to clear and the pressure begin to ebb as Regis reached into his pouch and pulled out a vial of Swallow and popped the cork.

“I haven’t told you about any of this because if I had, you would have been dead before you could have gotten to Ciri.” Regis put the vial to Geralt’s mouth none to gently and forced his head back. Geralt swallowed by reflex, and felt the sting across his face lesson. “Now, regardless of the instructions to the contrary, I need to tell you everything. You just have to give me the chance, and it certainly can’t be done in a night. However I can tell you the real reason they sent me to shadow you.”

Geralt eyed the vampire as he reached into the satchel and pulled out the sweet smelling rag Regis had used earlier to dampen the smells. The vampire laid it on the ground, his one hand still firmly holding Geralt in place. He then grabbed a familiar decanter which Geralt knew was mandrake moonshine. Regis quickly poured the alcohol on the rag. When the sting from the rag hit Geralt’s face he almost sighed. He let Regis examine the shallow cuts on his face, the familiar long past pattern of Regis fussing over him swept over him like a blanket, and momentarily calmed his raw nerves.

“Why is that?” Geralt said his head clearing. He felt his own arm move up to grasp Regis’s. Regis knew the danger had passed and removed his arm from Geralt’s chest. As Regis sat on his knees Geralt felt that same infuriating ache he had felt when he hugged Regis earlier come back.

“There is another vampire.” Regis said his hands resting on his thighs. “Sure Orianna needs to be dealt with, but she is not technically an Anathema, as by law I cannot touch her. Neither can the elder as it turns out. So we need you, and the only reason it matters to The elder is because she has pissed where she sleeps, and her carelessness has led to our clan’s potential discovery, which won’t be good for anyone. Dettlaff is in similar straits, but he has gone to ground under the Elders good graces. But the Core reason is that unknown Vampire.”

“Have you contacted the other tribes elders?” Geralt asked his head finally clearing enough to ask real questions. 

“It was the first thing he did actually.” Regis nodded. “This Vampire, it is clever, or somehow, not bound. The other tribes Elders could account for all their kin, and as we watch birthrates like a hawk, there is no possible way for the elder not to have sensed and addition to the tribe.”

“Is there any animosity by those that are not allowed to have children? Would they attempt in secret?” Geralt asked.

“Attempt sure, but those that do are brought back to the elder to serve their kin, and their children in general are schooled away from their parents.” Regis creased his brows together in thought. “It delays the list, and in general causes no small amount of animosity. It happens extremely rarely. Maybe once every 25-50 years or so. In order to get pregnant, a female vampire has to be in estrus. As a species on the whole we are induced ovulators. The female has to be in estrus and have had to mated successfully in order to release an egg…”

“Ok back on topic.” Geralt groaned shifting his back up the trunk. “How long have they been out there, and is there a trail of bodies?”

“Apparently they were noticed by the elder decades ago, but he wrote it off.” Regis Shrugged. “First it was years between contact. And the contact was extremely one sided. The vampire would brush up against the elder and the elder would try to get ahold of the thread, only for it to repeatedly slip through his fingers. It happened so many times and in so many locations that the elder was willing to write it off. The brushes have slowly increased over time and gotten stronger. But every time the elder could only pinpoint that the source was somewhere in the north. In the past years apparently the vampire has brushed up against him with more frequency then at any other time. He is convinced that the vampire is here in Toussaint, somewhere. So I am to lean on you ‘discreetly’ to help me track this unknown vampire.”

“And by discreetly you mean we can’t talk about it unless we are bubbled like we are now?” Geralt shifted to look up at the sky through the barrier.

“Preferably.” Regis nodded.

“How do you know all of this?” Geralt looked back to Regis and noticed the vampire shift uncomfortably.

“I have been back in Toussaint for nearly three months.” Regis leaned in on himself and Geralt felt the hurt sting again from earlier. 

“No, I mean how?” Geralt purposefully made a mental note that he was hurt, and that he had every damned right to be hurt, but right now he needed more information and blowing up and making a bigger scene wasn’t going to get it. He watched Regis closely as the vampire, now with a shake in his hands took the bottle of moonshine he had set aside and took a long draw.

“It was terrifying Geralt.” Regis said shifting from his knees. “When I arrived with Dettlaff I was immediately taken to him. This place is ancient, full of spirits, and because it is a large chunk of our world forced into yours the rules of physics don’t apply. I had only seen our Elder on a few occasions, and once or twice in passing. He normally takes the guise of a middling knight with a shaved head and some earrings. Every time I had seen him up to this moment he had seemed kindly, and fatherly. But the way we act around him, and the way I was told about him when I was younger kindled an instinctual fear of him. What I saw was that fear made flesh. Gone was his human disguise, he stood before me wearing a long kilt, his claws out, and his true form out for all to see.”

“I didn’t even have a moment before he was on top of me.” Regis shuddered. 

Geralt sat back wide eyed as Regis recounted what had happened.

************

He had been riding for a week now. The Early spring had made a mess out of the passes, and now that it was coming to summer it was still difficult to get through the mountains and back to Toussaint. He had to stop not once, but twice to fix the wagon. Once was for a rotten wheel, the second was for a broken axel. The going was slow, and in parts of the paths it was only wide enough for a single wagon. Dettlaff for his part of it was just dead weight. Regis had wrapped the other vampire partially in linen, and set him on a soft bed of furs even through he looked every bit the corpse Regis had told him to pretend to be. The great thing about Dettlaff at the moment was that he was driving people away from them, and they were allowed through quicker than most so they wouldn’t attract monsters. It had still taken longer than it should have, and if Dettlaff could have had strength they could have been to Toussaint in less than a day.

Regis could feel the sun warming his back as he lead his mule through the picturesque vineyards, and a slowly building dread was seeping into the fabric of his being. He was getting close now, the lake was just a few miles away and each step the mule made forward made Regis want to abandon his trek and go to ground. Dettlaff’s injuries had been severe, he had drained himself of blood even before getting attacked by the order of the flaming rose. Regis had been giving him what he could, but the only thing Regis had partaken in since he had left Beauclair was from Dettlaff, or what he had left behind anyway.

Regis’s hair had begun to start filling back in. and it’s once gray and almost white wisps were growing thicker with streaks of black poking their way back through. He felt better then he had in decades actually, but it was nearly at the cost of his friend. Regis quickly took visual stock of what he had in the wagon before they arrived to the shore. The most important item was something he planned to keep on his person. One of the things he had found near Dettlaff was a scroll, written in common and vampiric, detailing everything anyone could dare to know about his kind and more. Some things were greatly disturbing. The age of the scroll dated back to when they had crossed over. Someone had learned the human language quickly, and had written this down. For what purpose? Regis couldn’t even surmise.

The problem right now is that he had been recalled months ago. He had been recalled and hadn’t answered. He had disobeyed the elder directly in his need to find Dettlaff. Now he was limping back without even letting the elder know he was on his way.

When he came back from death he learned he had come into a new ability. He had been so close to death that while he could hear the elder call if necessary; he could also close him out completely and utterly. He could hide in essence from anyone or anything that was vaguely vampiric. He hadn’t gotten a chance to truly understand the extent of this new ability, but reveled in the fact that he couldn’t be tracked. For the first time in years he had felt privacy.

Now though he was certainly being watched from the shadows. Toussaint was their capital, any movement into or out of the duchy was reported immediately, both Vampire and human alike. Regis just kept moving forward keeping his pace steady.

He was back primarily for Dettlaff’s sake, to get him to the caves so he could heal properly. Something that wasn’t afforded to him when he was injured so Dettlaff had shouldered the burden.

He had ridden by Corvo Bianco already, and his worn patchwork clothes, his beard and the straw hat that adorned his head had disguised him from the one person he really wanted to go back to. He saw Geralt in the fields with the workers, inspecting the vines, and working to replace a post that had obviously not seen it through the winter. He slowed down just a touch to watch the man work and his heart had burned. Geralt had looked well rested, his skin sunburned and pink under the simple tunic he wore half tucked into a set of equally airy pants. His hair was tied up in a knot on the back side of his head, which Regis had never seen before on him. He was wearing what had to be a set of old boots that had the plate mail removed from them, and he moved with ease as he deftly helped his workers detach and hold the wire that had the vine on it. When Geralt’s eyes met his across the distance there was no recognition. Just a friendly wave, which Regis returned automatically. There was no hesitation, there was no movement of realization, Geralt just simply went back to work. 

Oh how that had stung. Regis knew that he wouldn’t have been recognizable even if he had walked right up to Geralt, but he wanted to turn around. He sighed steeling himself. He didn’t want Geralt to be a part of what was going to come next. 

Regis felt himself coming back as they reached the dock at the shoreline. What looked like a fisherman was casting off the docks.

“I see you have come crawling back Emiel.” The man called over his shoulder as he cast a line.

Regis hopped down off the cart and walked to the back, to collect Dettlaff and his belongings ignoring the man. He swiftly shouldered a large bag, and his satchel, and gingerly began to lift Dettlaff from the furs he had been resting in. A hiss and a snap of pain whipped across the bond.

“Its ok, we are here, just a quick boat ride and we will get you all fixed up.” Regis’s eyes met cold blue ones. 

Annoyance filtered across the bond.

“Sorry you found it patronizing, you know the truth of the matter .” Regis huffed shifting Dettlaff. Fear trickled across the bond and uncertainty. Dettlaff was unable to move or speak past darting his eyes back and fourth. Regis thinned his lips looking down to the other vampire and let uncertainty filter across his end of the bond. Regis didn’t know what to expect any more then Dettlaff did and he wasn’t about to tell him everything would be ok, when he knew good and well that it could easily mean their deaths.

“We have been tracking your progress since you entered the Sansretoiur.” The Fisherman called hoisting himself up and setting his pole down. “When we couldn’t contact you, despite you visibly being right in front of us, we made contact with Dettlaff. We know he is injured, beyond your realm of expertise. I am to ferry you across the lake. Dettlaff will be taken care of and healed. You are to speak with the elder.”

“I realize that you are only relaying a message, but please do wipe that smirk of superiority off your face Fledder.” Regis intoned causing the fisherman’s eyes to widen. “You are expendable, and I am not in any sort of mood to deal with your superfluous blather. I can and will lower myself to rowing across the lake with your ears around my neck. It would be a pleasant change from staring at a Mules arse in any case.”

Regis stepped around the fisherman and made his way to the end of the dock where a small boat was tied. He stepped gracefully into the boat and softly put Dettlaff in the bottom. The amount of mirth coming from the incapacitated Vampire almost caused Regis to break character.

Regis could feel the surprised hesitation from the fisherman. 

“Sorry sir.” The man said the fearful hesitation wrenching a grimace from Regis. He quickly turned and offered a kind smile to the lesser vampire.

“The apology should be mine,” Regis sighed watching as the tension bled out of the Fledder. “It has been a long trip with many bumps along the way. I am tired sore, and impossibly worried about my friend here. Please do choose for yourself the best bits of the skins and other items in the cart to keep, as I am sure you have a family, then give the rest and the mule to the elder. He a can distribute to where it is needed as I am not in need of it any longer.

Regis felt Dettlaff sending the feelings of softness and mirth through the bond. Regis huffed.

“And you would do well to remember that sarcasm is not the way to make sure I don’t accidentally kick you while we ride.” Regis groused looking Dettlaff in the eyes. Dettlaff’s expression didn’t change, his face didn’t move. Regis clamped down the bond to not let his horror and worry filter through.

“Let me grab my pike and we will be away.” The fisherman said any and all signs of smug superiority gone.

Regis settled himself in the boat and clutched his bag. Dettlaff’s head rested against his shoes and the injured vampire had closed his eyes against the daylight. Regis stroked Dettlaff’s thin wisps of hair causing a noticed relaxation to be felt across the bond. Regis was still beyond angry at the younger vampire for everything he had done and put him through, but his anger could be addressed once the other vampire was well again. 

He had seen interactions and understood interactions between siblings, even though he was an only child, and right now he felt like an older brother who had rescued his younger sibling from a beehive, after said brother had set his barn on fire, and ran away. The thought sent annoyance through the bond, even though he kept stroking the others hair.

“All right.” Light feet stepped into the boat not even rocking it as the Fisherman settled himself at the aft of the small boat and dipped the pole he had in the water. The strength of the push had them riding across the lake at a good clip. Regis shut the bond off again as they approached the entrance to the enclave. When the boat hit the shore near a what looked like a small deck and patio, Regis stiffened. 

There were a group of higher vampires dressed in surgeons clothes. Regis shifted on the boat and scooped Dettlaff back up. He walked up the small staircase and met them. Dettlaff’s eyes shot back open and Regis could feel his attempts to move to no avail. When Regis approached one of the surgeons stepped forward.

“Dettlaff has been tortured.” Regis stated looked at the honey brown eyed Higher vampire female that stepped forward. She had taken on the skin color of a Zerricanian, beautiful and velvet brown. Her hair was swept back from her cat shaped eyes and small gray streaks ran through the textured mass, it’s thickness just visible from behind her head and held low on her neck. “there is metal, metal from our home world that was poured molten into his throat. It solidified, and he can’t move his head. Pins made of the same metal have been driven into every bone, and wire has been weaved around his chest, through his heart, and around every piece of organ one could find. When he was captured he had drained himself of blood and he was weak. He is in pain, and my attempts have done nothing to alleviate it. I lack the necessary skill to do what needs to be done and find every piece of the metal that was shoved into him. I have tried.”

The Female’s eyes narrowed as she rolled over what Regis had said.

“Please...” Regis said bowing low in respect and gripping Dettlaff close to his chest “Please heal him.”

“Emil, Dettlaff,” The Female said her voice thick with the tussantaoi accent. “Your exploits in this past year are known to us. Dettlaff, even though you have caused great hurt to our kind and cause, you did so with a younglings heart. For this Elder Fabricio has decided to forgive your transgressions. You will be taken and sedated. We have called our metallurgist back from Skellige, he will be here in a days time. In the mean while you will be made comfortable.”

Regis could feel the nearly weeping relief floating through the bond and the nervousness about Dettlaff’s fate slowly faded to hope. He was then slammed with anger about Syanna, and the Bruxa, and regret.

“Dettlaff is extremely relived at this turn of events and is extremely thankful.” Regis said putting the feelings of the vampire in his arms into words. “He hopes that he will be able to repay the kindness. He is still angry about Syanna, and the Bruxa that betrayed him, but he regrets his actions deeply, and would like to be able to heal and move on and out of the public eye.”

The Dark skinned vampiress narrowed her eyes again. 

“You are blood bonded.” She sniffed the air and pulled it through to the organ in their noses that could detect pherimones. “This will make the next part that much more difficult.”

Regis felt his stomach drop.

“Emil. You are to submit to me, you will be taken to the elder.” The Female vampire said cooly.

“I will submit to no one.” Regis flatly intoned. This was the exact reason he had been hesitating to take Geralt to the Elder when they were Hunting Dettlaff. “I am my own master and have been for some time now. I will go to him under my own power, and converse with him, not because he wishes it, but because there are things that need to be discussed. If you wish you may accompany me.”

Regis felt the movement before he could see it. In a smooth motion that was nearly to fast to see, he set Dettlaff down. The Female was charging towards him. Regis shifted his form becoming partially monstrous and his claws extending. He charged forward to meet the female head on, but right at the point of their contact he shifted his direction and darted around the female. She was slow, and he felt faster then he had felt in years. With Deft hands he countered the other vampires that were waiting for her signal to attempt to incapacitate him. All the years traveling with Geralt, and the Hanza were paying off in leaps and bounds as he had learned and ingrained battle strategy into every single fight he had gotten into since meeting the witcher.

The first hadn’t even shifted yet, and Regis struck a group of tendons in the vampires neck that would put him out of sorts for several minutes. He weaved and dodged around the others as they lashed out at him, avoiding their claws and stunning them . They looked to him to be moving in slow motion, and by the time he had gotten to the third the female vampire had twisted around and shrieked. Regis had thought of this too, and had kept his human ears, which were not nearly as effected by the shrieks females could release. Clawing through the air Regis incapacitated the other two, and then turned his body towards the female. She was already on top of him, but moving with enough speed that she couldn’t change direction.

Regis grabbed her midair, twisted her around with her arm behind her back and slammed her up against the rock face that covered the opening to the grotto. She was panting, but she didn’t attempt to struggle. Regis just calmly held her.

“I will state again, that I will happily enjoy your company as an escort to see the Elder.” Regis said his tone not giving away the anger he felt. “Your men should be back up in a few minutes and none the worse for wear. I will let you go now, please don’t make this any more difficult than it has already been. I have traveled long and hard to get here.”

Regis stepped back and let the female catch her breath for a moment, and shifted himself back to his human form. The rest of the vampires around him were in their monstrous forms, but little by little they slid back into their human guises. Regis walked over to check on Dettlaff. 

Anger and worry were coming through the bond, as well as concern and confusion.

“Don’t worry friend, just a misunderstanding.” Regis grunted leaning down and lifting Dettlaff back up. “These kind people here will be seeing you, and this Female who hasn’t even done me the courtesy of sharing her name will be seeing to me.”

“My name, is Amelia.” The Female said finally calming and walking back over to Regis. Her shoulders were hunched and she avoided his eyes.

“Ah good, I would have enjoyed meeting you potentially under different circumstances.” Regis spoke regarding the female with a calculated gaze. “You see, over my years I have become a Barber surgeon of the human kind. I would love to exchange notes some time about the similarities and differences between the species. It’s amazing how much our own bodies have adapted in our time here to allow us to thrive, and the humans themselves are also fascinating creatures with a penchant for adapting to survive.”

“You are not unknown to me Emil.” The female said finally relaxing and chancing a gaze. “Your past is what people speak about, they have spoken about your fascination for humans and your past keeping of a witcher as a pet.”

Regis felt himself bristling with indignation at the comment. 

“Meletele bless you.” Regis groaned closing his eyes and earning a a questioning gaze. “I see we are still stuck exactly where we were four years ago, and two centuries before that. I sincerely wish I could have a dialog with you, but when you spit comments out that are so vacuous, it’s difficult to think you have anything to offer.”

The female looked cowed. Regis sighed.

Dettlaff’s Mirth was filtering across the bond again.

“Please give him to Martin.” The female said her voice now soft and distant. Regis looked up to the struggling Vampires who were now beginning to pull themselves upright. Martin, he guessed was the one that stumbled forward first. He looked like a man in his early thirties, with his long brown hair tied back in a braid.

Fear laced it’s way back through Regis again, and he blocked it off from Dettlaff as he handed the steel eyed vampire over to the recovering Martin.

“Good luck friend, I will see you again once I am finished with the Elder.” Regis said, sending one last wave of confidence, hope, and comfort through the bond. Then He shut it tight as they took Dettlaff and opened the cave up. 

“They will have to travel the long way around do to the nature of his injuries.” The Female said watching them as they entered. “We will take the short.” 

Regis felt his hand involuntarily find the strap of his satchel, as they began to move. They entered the cave, and the door automatically began to seal itself. Regis felt his eyes close as the air rushed by. The smell here was always so familiar it put Regis ill at ease. The smells, the tastes of the air here had become even more saturated with otherness since the conjunction. Had he come here a year ago when he and Geralt were hunting Dettlaff he would have had whole different sets of words to say about this place. The collection of his friend Dettlaff, and Geralt’s insistence on sparing him, had finally cut away the last of the other-worldliness Regis had been telling himself he felt for centuries. He had a way forward, people that cared about him monster or not. Truth be told, none of his true friends thought of him as a monster. If he slipped and showed his true form he knew that Geralt and all of his friends from over the years would instantly stand with him back to back to face whatever had triggered his change, instead of alienating him for it. He felt powerful, and more connected to the continent now that he had stability in his personal relationships.

Blinking his black eyes adjusted to the dull light of the cave. The Female vampire put her hand on the wall and a porthole, not unlike the ones Yennefer and Fringilla could create stood out against a relief in the wall. Unlike the human portholes, this one was comfortable to use, and didn’t make Regis feel like he was being torn limb from limb. 

Sighing he stepped through and into an ancient entrance hall. Regis knew the history of this place by wrote and verse. It was once the entrance to a great congress. Tall Pillars flanked the entrance to a doorway that had had been sheered away from the main building when the conjunction happened that had sent them here. Why they had sent the members of three of the high born tribes, All of their lesser kin and one extra elder was beyond anyone’s guess. They knew where the door way to their home world was, because it would occasionally flicker. Rocks would jump out, some plants, and air, always air. A Magical doorway was bound to have some cracks and the air constantly flowed from that other place.

Regis had to resist the urge to cover his face with his Kerchief, the smell of their home world was so overpowering since the conjunction that Regis could barely stand it. As he and the female made their way down the stone steps to the flat area between the pillars Regis could feel himself crackling with fear, dread, and determination. When the female vampire stopped and began to bow, Regis instantly did the same making sure his cutoff from Dettlaff was secure and unable to break. He also made a quick adjustment to the block he had against the elder, allowing a one way connection so he could feel the elder but the elder couldn’t feel him. He felt immediately rage, fear, and something dark. Something so dark it sent an instant reaction down Regis’s spine as he began to quake. He had to remind himself over and over in his head that the Elder would not kill him.

“Elder Fabricio, I humbly bring you the one called Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy as requested.” The female said in perfectly accented vampiric. 

Regis felt the shift in the air as the Elder approached him. He kept his eyes down, bent at the waist with his hand out. His eyes were tightly closed. 

“hmm you may leave us.” The voice of the Elder was strained. More strained then Regis had remembered it. He sounded as if he had been screaming and his voice had given out. 

Regis couldn’t help his eyes popping open as the female vampire turned to mist and hightailed it out of the grotto as fast as she could. He watched as the Elder walked around him, he knew something was wrong immediately when he spied what he could only call rags, followed by feet with claws. 

The sudden dizzying burst of pain informed Regis that without so much as a whisper the Elder had slammed him up against a pillar. Regis’s eyes widened when he looked at the elders face. He was in his vampiric form. Decorative scars wove across his body, stained with black ink, Regis had not seen a scared vampire before. The presence of the scars let Regis know this was done long ago. Glowing yellow eyes and black sclera bore into him. Regis kept his block up, he could feel the elder bouncing off his barrier inside his mind. Frustration leaked through.

The elder snarled and Regis felt himself flung up against the ceiling before falling flat on the ground. Shaking himself Regis stood and transformed. This time he countered, using the elders momentum to send him swiftly by him. The Elder didn’t wait, in a matter of moments He was circling Regis in a way Regis had never experienced. He would appear one place, just for long enough that Regis could see him, then in a moment he appeared another. Regis snarled despite himself. He felt his blood getting up and frustration building.

“Why don’t we have a conversation like two civilized beings, Fabricio?” Regis called his fangs aching with the call of the hunt. He felt the Elder behind him, and shifted himself just enough to be mostly out of harms way. When the elder was beside him Regis quickly stabbed forward and caught the elder through the hip, causing him to roar. Using the momentum Regis spun, and with a strength he didn’t know he possessed he flung the elder through the great hall and into a rock face. The force of the hit sent a resounding crack through the stone hall.

Regis heard the roar, and then the fight was on in earnest. Regis was at a high disadvantage, the elder could seemingly fly, and he used that to his advantage. Regis dodged, moved, stabbed, and snapped. He was fighting for his life and he knew it. Regis could feel the Elder before he struck. A momentary ripple in the air was all he had as warning before he turned to attempt to bock and redirect. 

Regis fought for all he was worth. He landed a good swipe across the Elders back with his claws causing the elder to dart away ungracefully. Pushing his advantage as the elder had not disappeared this time, Regis misted and appeared at the elders side. He went in low and spinning used his momentum to land a knee straight in the elders Kidney. The elder let off a high pitched wail, and as he bent into the pain Regis pressed forward using the energy left over from his kick to spin and bring an elbow down on the Elders shoulder. There was a sickening crack as Regis felt the contact break through the bone. The force of the blow sent the Elder sprawling. Regis backed off to take stock of the cuts that littered his body. Every one of them was superficial. The elder hadn’t been able to land a single solid blow. 

A low laugher started causing Regis to duck down into a defensive posture. 

“You think you are so clever.” The Elder said standing up and cracking his shoulder back in place. “You have always thought that of yourself have you not Emiel? First you thought yourself above others because of your hunting. Then you thought it because you attracted a first class mate. Then you thought it because you ran with a group off hooligans and you refused to listen to your betters. Then you thought it again when you awoke from being torn apart by the humans, and refused to imbibe their blood. In all of this I waited and watched.” 

Regis’s eyes kept the elder in his sights as he began walking and disappearing throughout the cave. The hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle as the elder spoke.

“You then began, of all things to watch and learn from the humans.” The elder spoke looking off into the distance. “We tried to get through to you, you ignored us, and then Humans… HUMANS of all creatures taught you humility. And you treated with them, traded with them. You learned of them, of their cultures, all while pretending to be one. Why?”

Regis balked.

“It’s simple really.” Regis said. “Despite their fleeting lives, they lived. They lived fiercely, loved fiercely, felt keenly, in a way almost like us. Humans in a single human lifetime, the single span of a century, could be born, grow up, find love, have children, work, retire, and Die. They do in a single century what it takes, and took us a millennia in our own. There are thousands upon thousands of things that could take them away, accidents, sickness, diseases, virus’s, but they, they don’t let it stop them. Till the day they parish they live. Us? We go through the motions of living without enjoying it. We take the moral high ground and insist that others cannot possibly have the same feelings, thoughts, needs, and wants as us. Yet I witnessed it every day, and it was fascinating.”

The elder appeared next to him. 

“So much so that you forsake your own kind.” The elder spat causing Regis to flinch. “Then you began following that Witcher. Witchers have been after us since we arrived. We give warnings to our young, specifically because they could harm us, they could bring humans to our door. You ignored this, all of this. And we warned you time and time again. They say you trained him as your pet, that he followed you around as much as he did you. But I know different. I watched, I could feel it.”

Regis’s eyes got wide, and he snarled.

“You will not speak of that.” Regis roared and lashed out this time hitting air as the Elder danced away.

“What did it bring you child.” The elder spoke laughing. “It brought you death. We could feel your screams. Every last high born vampire could feel it. Did you know that there were many that supported you? And many that had started to live with your tenants? They turned away from our home to try to become one with this weak people, they wanted to go after you. I prevented it.”

“Yet here I stand.” Regis snarled watching as the elder paced just far enough out of claws reach. “Your words didn’t reach one.”

“Dettlaff.” The elder hissed his claws flexing in agitation. “My words didn’t reach him because I didn’t fathom that he would ever do what he did. He has been an outcast, an outsider long before you made it in vogue. Dettlaff had exhibited no want to interact with any of our kind, or human kind. He was antisocial, and barely poked his head out of that toy shop of his. He only came to your rescue after we had thought that you had died. When I could no longer feel you. He found you and brought you back. He shared his blood with you, you formed a blood bond!”

“He did what any moral person would do.” Regis spat. “He healed me, fixed me, through pained effort, and keen mind. Unlike some.”

Regis again found himself face down in the dirt. A roaring red stripe of pain lanced across his back where he had been cut to the bone. 

“Morality starts and ends with me!” The Elder roared. “You are a member of Gharasham! You owe your fealty to me! And only me!”

Regis popped back up. His satchel fell to the floor, the strap had been cut. Without thinking Regis kicked the satchel across the cave. It landed behind some rocks. He Roared and faced the Elder.

“I owe my allegiance to no one who doesn’t think of the people they are supposed to rule before themselves.” Regis sneered flexing his claws. “You talk about my flaws but neglect to mention your own. You sit here day in and day out, claiming that you are guarding the door to our home. You linger, ignoring the plight of your people. Your sit here sniffing this cave like a drug, and It is worse for you then human blood ever was for me. The one time it did open, you held people back before you could step through yourself you selfish, prosaic, leech. You delayed the opportunity to return, and then you stepped through as it closed. I saw what happened, I was there. It sundered you. Your selfishness lead us to loose our one opportunity to return, and now you sit here like a fistek addict sniffing the air and licking the dirt.”

A Sharp pain across the back of his knee caused him to roar. The Tendons had been cut. Regis fell to one knee. 

Pained laugher ripped through the cave.

“Not so feisty now are you youngling.” The Elder spat as the pain caught up to Regis and he let out a pained roar. Regis couldn’t pin point him but a smile snuck across his face showing all of his sharp teeth.

“Seems as though you can’t stand a mirror.” Regis choked out through the pain.

Regis felt more pain ripping across his form. He was disabled and couldn’t fight back. He felt himself lifted by the neck and attempted to move his arms to slice through the elders arm, but all he could manage was a halfhearted flail. The tendons at his elbow had been cut. He could feel the poison now creeping through his system. He felt himself getting limper.

“You will bow to me Regis,” The elder said pulling Regis close enough to his face that Regis could feel his breath as he spoke. “Before this night is over, you will bow to me.”

Regis let out a choked cry when the elders tongue found its way to his neck. He was still in peasant garb, and the tunic had left his chest and his neck exposed. The bite came swiftly afterwards. The second he felt the elders fangs against his neck he blocked him off completely again. Pain and rage lanced it’s way through his system as he could do nothing but let this happen. He had all but given up when he felt it. The elder was pumping venom into him. Regis struggled and his eyes blew wide a groan slipping past his lips before he could hold it back.

“What are you doing?” Regis choked around the hand crushing his neck. Heat began to flood him, reaching every point, his skin began to tingle and the heat quickly began pooling in his groin. The Elder lifted off of him smiling with blood stained teeth as Regis shuttered from the sudden lack of contact.

“Claiming what is mine.” 

Sharp pain lanced down his body and was instantly turned into roaring pleasure as the Elder Shredded Regis’s clothes. 

So this is happening. Regis thought to himself instantly disassociating his mind from his body in the same way he did while Dettlaff was helping him recover. The same words he said to Dettlaff the first time they had taken each others blood ran through his mind. 

_We must never deny ourselves the pleasure of things, so long as it is offered to us. You and I may have different paths, but we must not feel guilty for allowing ourselves to feel if only for this moment._

__

Regis hid the smile that attempted to wind itself across his face by moaning. He knew what was coming, and planned to play into it. 

“Ah such a specimen, you were always beautiful Emiel.” The elder hissed his own lust driven by the fact that he thought he had Regis where he wanted him. 

Regis let his head loll back when the elder began to lick at the angry red cuts laced across Regis’s body. The poison was stacking, and it’s introduction through the cuts kept him bleeding freely. Regis bucked upwards his body craving contact while his mind kept track of everything the elder was doing. His cock began leaking precum in droves as the elder languidly licked up the blood. 

When the elder made contact with his cock and wound his long tongue around the head Regis keened. The feeling was indescribable though the haze of the euphoric poison. He had only experienced this a handful of times and only once with beings more powerful then himself. 

The sudden sharp pain of teeth on his shaft and the loss of pressure in his cock caused him to scream. The Elder was sucking at him, he had bit his cock and he was now drinking from his shaft. An Incoherent steam of curses left his mouth and he felt his teeth shred his lips in his fury.  
“Such disgraceful words from someone so eloquent.” The elder purred leaving Regis’s cock to run a claw up from the base of his shaft to the center of his chest allowing it to cut deep enough to bleed. Regis let out another moan and hazarded a look downwards. His cock lay bleeding and limp and the line up his chest was deep enough to expose the fatty layer right below the skin. He could see the spots that appeared on his skin while in his monstrous form growing darker as the lust grew.

Regis let out a piercing scream when two claws slashed their way across his nipples splitting each small bud and his areola in half. The poison was now so thick in his system that the pain instantly turned into pleasure the second it was enacted. The elder laughed his strained voice sending jolts straight into Regis’s core.

The Elder stood back and dropped his kilt exposing his whole body for Regis to see. The Scarification ran along the whole of the elders body, along the shaft of his penis, and to the head. The head itself had notch marks along the flair. Regis couldn’t help but wincing at the thought of going through something like that. The Elder mistook the look for one of fear, and in a moment Regis had been flipped onto his stomach with his half flaccid cock against the smooth stone. 

“Yes, you would do well to fear me.” The elder purred nibbling around the edge of Regis’s ear. The pleasure that came from that alone had Regis grinding down on the rock, but with his cock injured there wasn’t enough friction to allow him to build his pleasure. “Soon you will be begging me, begging me to forgive you, begging me to invade your mind, Begging me to fuck you blind.” 

Regis groaned, but smiled internally. He knew now what had to be done. 

He allowed the Elder to spread his legs offering no resistance while he quickly over road his body’s reaction to the poison and willed it to repair and purge the poison from his cock. His Dorsal, and bulbourethral arteries had been severed through with the Elders sharp teeth. He directed the whole of his body’s healing power to the arteries and felt them slowly start to knit themselves back together. Blood was pooling from the cut on his chest around his groin onto the rock. The anti-coagulant in the poison was making it slick.

He felt a claw at his entrance spreading him, but not moving to cut him. Regis celebrated his luck till a long thick wet appendage forced it’s way inside the tight pucker at his rear. The feeling was sinfully delicious and Regis felt himself pushing back against the wriggling appendage and lifting his hips. When it hit that deep pleasure center the prostate, Regis keened and felt his toes curl. The wave of pleasure was deep in his core, a base note to everything else. When it pulled away to continue it’s journey Regis re-doubled his efforts to get his cock back in order. 

“Now I shall take what I want from you. You will not be able to do anything other than wriggle and beg, I will break you Regis.” The Elder intoned.

When Regis felt the Elder align himself with his entrance, he felt the arteries finally close. He Let out a breathy groan that the elder took as an invitation.

The first thrust had Regis seeing sparks. He screamed out and bucked backwards sheathing the elders cock to the hilt with the movement. The pleasure and pain of being filled so fully caused his cock to pressurize again, and the stiff member slid along the smooth rock. Regis bit his own lip to hold himself steady and not start to thrust, he didn’t want to tip off the elder to what he had just accomplished. 

He felt himself grinning like a fool when the elder began to thrust. As he thrust Regis began to focus his efforts to his wounded tendons. Each time he managed to complete a tendon and regain function, he let out a needy keening moan, begging with his noises for the Elder to help him. The elder for his part was lost in his power trip and was holding Regis’s head and hips snarling things about denying Regis his pleasure. Several times Regis had to bite his tongue to keep himself from falling over the edge to soon. The elder was purposefully avoiding his prostate now, but Regis’s cock was slick with blood and precum, which were providing a lovely slickness to thrust into. The harder the elder held his hips down, the more friction it caused. 

When Regis felt the final connection of his knees snap back he keened. It was now or never. 

“Oh… oh gods.” Regis intoned allowing himself to build up fully. “I… I can’t….”

This triggered the reaction Regis was hoping for as the Elders Rhythm changed and a jerky unevenness entered the fray.

“Yesssss. YES… Say it… Say it Emiel.” The Elder hissed through clenched teeth, his fingers bruising as they tightened.

“Ah…. P… please…” Regis mewled cocking his eye to look back to the elder, who had closed his. 

“Please what, Emiel,” The Elder groaned thrusting Faster and faster. 

“Let me fuck you.” Regis said, his voice flat and calm. Regis grinned when the Elders eyes snapped open.

He used the momentary surprise to kick back against the rock and topple them both to the ground. The elder for his part was so close to finishing his body was not obeying his commands. Stunned they hit the ground, and in an instant Regis had grabbed the Elders wrists and pinned them to the ground. Smiling fiercely Regis allowed the bond to the elder that he had held shut till that point to flood open. The wave of pleasure hit the Elder full force and he groaned and ground against Regis. 

Regis ground into him, nailing him to the ground as he let pleasure flood through the bond and he road him. It was the Elders turn to keen as Regis began to hit his own prostate over and over. In a few short seconds Regis felt himself tipping over the edge. The power he felt at this moment was like nothing he had ever experienced. It was Raw, Primal, domineering. 

“How does it feel to be fucked.” Regis snarled as he kicked his head back and howled. The Elder keened, the same needy sound that Regis had made escaped his lips unbidden. The sight started Regis over the edge.

He clenched allowing his body to follow through of it’s own accord and released the Elders hands as the white light of pure pleasure took over his mind and soul. Regis felt his cum sling out in large ropy beads splashing on the Elders scarred chest, neck, and face. The sight sent Regis through another spasm, and the image of the elder wantonly gasping with Regis’s seed painting him was enough to send shocks straight to brain. 

As Regis peaked he felt the Elder following him, and thrusting into him. Grinning his black and red eyes caught the Elders. The elders eyes widened as Regis’s grin turned feral. The Second the Elder started over the edge Regis laughed.

“Now lets see who begs.” Regis purred leaning down to the elders face.

The second the Elder began to call out, Regis snapped the bond shut, stunning him and causing a choked sound. The Elders body was following through, but the heat that had raced through him till just a moment ago turned to ice. Shocked he thrust harder into Regis and Howled in pain as he tried to get it back. Without preamble Regis trust his hands forward and sliced open the Elders Chest. Quicker then the eye could see he ripped apart the Elder’s ribs and grabbed his heart effectively stopping it from beating. He applied just enough pressure to the organ to stop blood flow but not enough to crush it. 

The Elder was stunned into silence as suddenly everything was gone. Regis felt the cock inside him go limp the second he grabbed The Elders heart. Regis shifted just enough to get the cock out of him then began to laugh. He sat there on the Elders stomach and laughed. 

Suddenly there were panicked voices around him, he had the wherewithal to know that the second the yelling started curious eyes and ears wanted to see what was going on. He didn’t know how many of his kin had seen the act, but he knew enough had seen the finality that word was going to spread like wildfire. His laugher grew louder and more chaotic, he couldn’t control it. 

He kept laughing as the Elder roared and dislodged him. He felt tears start rolling down his face as the horror of what was done to him, and what he did took seat in his mind but the laughter kept coming.

The last thing he remembered was the elder cursing him and tearing him limb from limb. He remembered laughing right up to the point where it went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck man... I don't know why I do this to characters @_@ It's horrible. It's important, but horrible. Poor Regis -_-


	5. Introspection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regis finds himself trapped, with no escape. With no escape in sight he turns introspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, blood ahead, and torture, and death. Just FYI.

CHAPTER BREAK:

Regis slowly crawled his way back to consciousness through the haze of a dream he couldn’t quite remember. The feeling of warmth, family, and love filled him so fully he was having difficulties finding the will to crawl back to wakefulness. When he did break the spell of the dream a raging headache filled him, and instantly his world spun. Without preamble he sat up and wrenched himself over and threw up all over the floor between his legs.

He emptied whatever foul smelling things remained in his gut to the point he was dry heaving. Once he got it under control he flopped back down pointedly ignoring the smell of sick wafting from below him. The memories of his last bout of consciousness came roaring back with a vengeance causing his temples to throb. He grinned despite the pain that bit through every last bit of his being. The last memories he had were of being torn limb from limb.

“Well, at least I seem to have them all this time.” Regis sighed out loud to no one in particular. 

He let the dizziness pass and then took stock of where he was. He was chained. Heavy manacles wrapped around his legs and arms. Regis immediately attempted to mist out of them to no avail. He looked at the room he was in. He was surrounded on all sides by a cage, below him he could feel smooth metal, around him were metal bars.

“Oh, that’s not good.” Regis groaned sitting back up, this time riding out the wave of dizziness till it passed. 

Looking out through the room he was surrounded on all sides by empty cages, each one had a catch drain that lead to a shallow ditch that wound it’s way through the floor and emptied into Regis’s cage. Regis felt himself sigh.

“Seems as though I am in Tesham Mutna.” Regis groused looking around to see what other details he may have missed.

“Close, but not quite.” The voice belonged to someone Regis didn’t want to see for the rest of his eternal life. The Elder. He had hidden himself in the shadows and only stepped out now 

“Ah I see you are up and well again.” Regis quipped looking at the Elder through the bars. Regis could sense his hesitation through body language alone.

Good. Regis thought. It’s about time someone knocked him off his high horse.

Memories of what had happened threatened to overwhelm him at that moment, but he quickly forced them down to regard the elder.

“You will break Regis.” The elder said. “Everyone breaks here. Khagmar broke in Tesham Mutna and he was ten times the vampire you are. We have gotten it down to a fine science now. I will come to talk to you when you have had enough.”

“You will be waiting for an eternity. I have already been through this once, to my chagrin.” Regis stated as he found a pile of dirty hay and flopped down into it. “As thrilling as it was the first time, it has lost it’s hold on me and it’s charm. You are more likely to die of boredom then get any sort of reaction out of me.”

The Elder grinned.

“We shall see.”

With that he was gone and Regis was left to his own thoughts. Before he knew it he drifted back into sleep. When he came to again he could hear the noise of voices and the smell of humans. Someone had been in his cage and cleaned the sick up, and left food in it’s place. Good food too by the looks of it. Regis knew looks could be deceiving however and one quick sniff of it let him know it was off limits. The meat was human, a perfectly cooked steak, with brown gravy and mushrooms. Even the Vegetables were cooked in rendered human fat. 

“That was a lot more trouble then I would have gone to.” Regis said distastefully shoving the plate away. Regis hoped that whoever that lovely steak was , was at peace now. The idea that they were getting ready to kill to break him say heavy in his stomach. 

The noise in the room picked up as Regis glanced outwards. A single human was lead in by a vampire in a plague mask. The human was obviously terrified and had soiled himself. The single vampire brought the human into one of the cages across from Regis and strapped him into a chair. He then applied a set of metal cuffs around the poor man both at the wrists and the feet. When they snapped closed the man screamed. Regis smelt the blood instantly.

The Vampire in the mask silently left.

Regis regarded the single human as he whimpered.

“I am sorry for what they are putting you through, all on account of me.” Regis said keeping his voice soft and kind. “They expect me to become a raving idiot, a monster, but I wont.”

“Wh… what did you do.?” The man said opening his glossy brown eyes and looking to Regis. Regis was sitting at the bottom of his cage with his back against the bars. 

“I quite literally fucked the elders world into oblivion.” Regis said smiling despite himself. When his teeth became visible the man whimpered. 

“Don’t fear me, I am not a threat.” Regis said taking stock of the man’s discomfort. 

“You are one of them?!” The man said his eyes widening.

“Unfortunately yes.” Regis concurred bowing his head towards his knees. “Though I am not as like them as they would prefer. What did you do if you don’t mind me asking? We vampires have laws, and as silly as it sounds with you sitting in front of me here, we aren’t supposed to be allowed to imprison humans, unless they are sworn to us and they break the rules set for them.”

“I really didn’t expect this.” The man said shifting himself and wincing. “I… I worked for the Flintshire family, I signed on to be a servant and signed all of their fancy paperwork even though I couldn’t read. I would work at their estate during the day trimming the hedges and keeping the gardens in order. I was paid a stipend, but when the wars came through food was hard to come by. I stole from their Kitchens, for months.”

“So they weren’t taking care of you properly?” Regis said looking at the man as fear snuck across his face.

“No no… they were they were….” Regis could smell the change in the air as the lie bled out with the man’s wrists and ankles. 

“I will ignore that and I know they weren’t taking care of you.” Regis sighed glancing at the man. “So you were caught and brought here to be punished.”

The man hickuped and Regis could hear the soft sobs in the empty echoing room. 

“Well, if you are to die here, bleeding out slowly, we can at least take your mind off things.” Regis smiled sadly.

The next several hours were spent talking to the man about his past, his friends, his family, and all of the things he had enjoyed in life. As the man recounted Regis could smell the stress leaving him, and soon the room was filled with gentle banter and happy musings. Regis was nothing if not a talker and keep the man’s thoughts off of his slowly growing weakness. 

While this was happening Regis watched as the blood began to drip and run down the channels below the chair, it slowly made itself down the slope of the room to Regis’s cage where it slowly began to fill a trough that was directly outside of Regis’s cage, but just far enough away that he couldn’t reach over and touch it. He had been no stranger to human blood over the past century, in fact he had been arms deep in it on more then one occasion. It had bothered him on an annoyance level, the want to partake and turned down from a torrent, to a drip. As the man slowly drifted to unconsciousness and his organs began to fail Regis began to get introspective as to why this time around the blood wasn’t affecting him.

There were no spies when Regis and Geralt went into Tesham Mutna. What happened down there only Regis and Geralt and the smattering of monsters that made it down to the depths knew. He had taken several potions before hand, one of which was used to make the pleasurable scents to his nose much stronger. He had also taken the blood of one of his messenger crows like a shot. None of that would have worked on it’s own. The secret ingredient would be one that Geralt himself had possessed.

Regis had told him to set out bait to call monsters down so when Geralt spilled their blood it would send him into a frenzy. It was a blatant lie. When Geralt had walked into the cave after Regis had taken the sangurium, Regis could smell him, every delicious inch of him. The smell of battle was fresh on Geralt even though he had stopped at his newly acquired home to deposit the old women who’s curse he broke. He had taken a moment to change into fresh underclothes and leathers and sponge down the worst of his smell but it was truly intoxicating to Regis. 

He had felt the effect immediately and he knew his plan would work. It took all his will power to not nail his nose to the crook of Geralt’s neck. He smelled like the most fancy meal one could imagine given to a starving man and then telling him that he would fail and not get to eat ever again if he took so much as a sniff. Regis had to willfully hold himself back from interacting with him, his words were halted, and he had felt… well it didn’t matter what he had felt, but his body was responding excellently.

And that is what had finally set him over the edge at Tesham Mutna. The second the monsters came down and came after Geralt he could smell him. The battle, the blood, and the crowning moment was when the monsters began landing hits on the Witcher. The smell of the witcher’s blood tipped Regis into Madness. He couldn’t do anything about it and he lost himself to a baser instinct he hadn’t called on since Vilgifortz. 

When Regis looked up he realized he had unconsciously shifted into his bestial form while in remembrance. A Group of vampires was taking out the man, who had finally expired, and were bringing three more in. 

The elder was there and chuckling.

Regis smirked himself and stood up pulling against the chains in his bestial form. Without preamble he roared, and screamed and tugged at his chains making a big show of things. He kept flinging himself around and the elders laugher grew. He could feel the chains bruising his wrists. 

“Only one and this is the way you are acting.” The elder said approaching the cage. “My, my Emiel, I thought you said you would be unaffected by such things.”

As quick as he began his triad he instantly flung himself back into human form and chuckled as the Elders face twisted in rage.

“I am, the thought of seeing your disappointment satiates me, and relieves my boredom.” Regis couldn’t help himself from grinning, and then outright laughing again as the Elder snarled.

“Bring the Lot in, fill it up, I want to make him hurt.” The Elder said pulling on the mask of one of the vampires. “Adjust the knives so it’s slower, then keep them coming.”

Regis began the arduous process of calming the people that were brought in to die down. With one it was simple, with several it was a challenge, but one Regis was more then happy to rise to in attempts to make these poor souls last moments worth it. Without access to his powers it was more difficult, but at the same time he had been working as a barber surgeon in the human world for years now, and he knew how to help humans calm themselves down.

All the while Regis watched as the trough around his cage filled. The humans had all been drugged with moldy silage and sweet clover. The combination sometimes sent humans into a hemorrhagic fever, their blood leaking from every orifice. In all cases it prevented the blood that was in the room from clotting, and it flowed freely. The smallest cut was fatal, slowly fatal.

Regis sat waiting, biding his time and ignoring anything brought to him. By the end of the first day, the trough was full. By the end of the week the purpose of the shape of the room came into clear view. Little by little blood began to drip over the troughs edge, when it hit the edge of the cage it began pooling again. Human after human were marched through the doors, and soon, it wasn’t just men and women. Soon they became younger and younger, the blood sweeter. 

Regis for his part suffered little other then the guilt of watching these people die in front of him. He began making a mental list of all the names, the stories, where they were from, where they had been taken, what they had been doing. When there were lulls he would go over the lists of names and places keeping a tally on the several hundred people that were dying so that the elder could have his revenge. 

After the middle of the second week Regis watched as the first of the blood trickled into his cage. A single crimson line traveled lazily to the center where Regis had been sitting not an hour before. Cursing himself he piled the hay that was left as his bed up on one side of the cage, but little by little blood flowed from the corners to the center of the cage. 

Regis watched in horror as the blood began to pool, and the flow began to get fiercer. The coolness of the room had kept it relatively fresh and while it wasn’t warm, the sight of the blood began to make Regis second guess his abilities to control is transformation. 

When his whole floor was covered and he was perched on the hay avoiding it he realized the truth of this room. While Khagmar had been tortured with just the scent of the blood just out of reach, they had planned to immerse Regis. Finally when Regis could feel the hay getting saturated and slowly lowering with moisture he reached his hand forward to see if he could resist the call to partake if it touched him. The smell of the blood had long since lost it’s hold on him and now just the sight of it was the torturing factor. 

By this point the humans in the room had begun to communicate with those that were new as others were taken away. The story of a vampire being punished by his own kind kindled a respect from the humans as the story was passed from person to person. They had begun encouraging him, much to the Elder vampire’s chagrin. 

His first touch was just his fingertips. When it hit the liquid, it was cool, thick, but nothing like Regis had anticipated. Hesitantly he pulled his hand back and looked at the tips of his fingers. The humans in the room hushed as they watched him. He examined it waiting for the pull, but there wasn’t any. He then immersed his whole hand. When he pulled it up the cool liquid dripped down his arm creating a web of patterns on his skin. He felt the liquid hit the cuts under his manacles, and sighed as the cool liquid soothed the burning. 

Questions flew from the humans, that he tried to answer to the best of his abilities as he examined the blood. Deciding that it was now or never Regis slid to the edge of his hay pile and let his feet rest on the bottom of the cage. He was stiff from sitting still so long and the stretch elicited a groan of satisfaction as he let his legs unbend. Shakely he grabbed hold of one of the bars to the cage when an unexpected burst knocked against him coming from Dettlaff. 

The relief that played across his features caused the humans to cheer. Quickly he opened up the bond to his blood brother.

Worry pain and panic blasted through which Regis accepted and sent calmness back to. Regis had gotten talking through the bond down to an art when he was encased in glass. When Dettlaff sent confusion back over the bond Regis answered. He sent Determination, pain, fear, blood, bite, and pained lust. He had to talk in feelings and let Dettlaff do the translating. Fear, comfort and questioning came back to him. 

He sent the pained lust back again in answer, and added mischievousness determination, elation then a powerful blast of domination.

A powerful and relieved blast of mirth filtered through the bond. The humans had noticed his stillness and his closed eyes as he communicated to his friend. When he heard the door open again he sent a quick blast of distraction back to Dettlaff. The room was dead silent as the masked vampires went through the room to check the humans. The silence had unnerved them as all eyes watched them, they spoke back and fourth in quick vampiric. 

“You know…” Regis spoke flexing his toes which were now covered completely in blood. “I would love to see what would happen if you were to take off one of those masks.”

Regis stood up and groaned as he stretched his stiff limbs and back. All the vampires froze and looked to him as he stretched languidly. Smiling he reached his hand down into the blood and coated it. 

“You know, just a snifter, just a taste.” Regis purred bringing his hand close to his mouth. A single vampire stumbled forward. Regis honed in on him, and locked eyes with him under the mask. Regis’s powers were dulled, but he also had learned to manipulate himself over the years to tempt those he may have made his victims by his body alone. The others began to hiss at the one that approached the cage but instead of trying to grab him they backed off in panic. 

Regis reached his hand through the bars beckoning to the vampire who he could now see was young. 

“Take the mask off, it wont hurt to taste.” Regis said letting the thick liquid drip and pool through his fingers and off the tips of his claws.

“Jus… just a taste.” There was a panic at the door as the other vampires attempted to rush out. The young vampire was within arms reach his hands twitching and his claws slowly lengthening. Regis ran a finger down the young ones mask and he could hear the breath as the blood streaked. 

“Just… a small one…” Regis grinned maliciously as the young vampires gloved hands reached up and undid the clasps of the mask and let it fall to the floor with a wet splatter. Regis watched as the young Vampire tilted his head back and his whole body began to shake. He could smell the bloodlust coming off the young one in waves. Regis reached forward through the bars and ran a finger across the young Vampires face, leaving a bloody streak from his temple to his lips. He gently pressed at the young vampires lips with a finger and was rewarded when a pink tongue darted out and tasted it. 

Regis felt himself laughing as the other vampires called out and finally got enough wits about them to start towards the young one, but it was to late. There was a sharp intake of breath and a roar. 

Regis jumped back to the back of his cage when the young one transformed skipping straight into his monstrous form. The human’s began to scream and Regis began laughing as the Young one stumbled forward and immersed his snout in the blood. The quick and desperate movements by the young vampire to become one with the source of the smell splashed blood up in great waves. Regis shielded his eyes as he felt the liquid coat him from head to foot. The other vampires were trying to subdue him, and the startled shouts by the humans created a cacophony that drowned out Regis’s laugher.

The struggle unmasked two more vampires and the cycle began anew. The three vampires that were unmasked began to fight with one another as they all tried to get at the blood. Regis saw the Elder mist in and when he appeared one of the struggling vampires knocked him down into the blood.

“ENOUGH!” Regis was protected from whatever had froze the three bestial vampires in place. They stood stock still their eyes widened in horror. 

The elder spun and faced Regis, who was grinning like an idiot his fangs glinting in the torchlight. Rage and frustration rolled off the elder in waves. Regis met his gaze through the bars.

Regis hoisted himself back upright and approached the bars where the Elder was staring at him his breath coming in quick pants.

“Ah the siren’s call has you too.” Regis said watching carefully as the Elders eyes locked onto his and began to blow open. Regis brought his hand again up to his mouth and let his bloodied fingers touch his lips. The Elders breath hitched. Regis opened his mouth and let his tongue lull out. The Elders eyes became heavy with anticipation.

Regis flicked his wrist forward splattering the Elder across the face with the blood that had been on his hand.

The elder roared and spun around snapping his fingers. In a moment he was gone, mist moving with speed around the frozen bestial vampires, who stumbled out after him like puppets. When Regis heard the door slam shut and seal he flopped backwards into his now soggy bed and burried his head in his knees.

Without realizing what he had done, he felt Dettlaff’s end of the bond send a warm wave of comfort. He had broadcast everything to the vampire on the other end of the bond, and Dettlaff began pulsing comfort. Regis felt himself shuddering as the months events began to settle into his mind, and he allowed himself to let his guard down broadcasting his pain, hurt, fear, and sadness to the recovering vampire on the other end of the bond. 

For the first time in a long time, Regis felt himself give over and he wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Regis. He isn't helpless though. Not by a long shot!


	6. Absterge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After several months of sitting in stinking rotting blood, Regis is approached with an offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood, death, mentions of rape, sorrow and hurt, ahead. You have been warned.
> 
> Finally turning it around. Fair warning, parts of this fic do get rambly.

Another week had passed. Regis had given up on sleeping properly when his straw bed was finally so soggy and submerged that it was of no use. After his outlet of emotion Dettlaff had let him know through the bond that he was on the mend, and that he was going to go to ground to finish his recovery away from prying eyes. Regis knew the truth of the matter was Dettlaff had heard about what had been happening to him through the whisperings of those that were taking care of him, and the younger vampire wanted to focus on being there for Regis as he went through his ordeal. 

Now Regis sat in the center of his cage on his knees. Adapting the pose he had seen Geralt do a million times. The blood now came up to his navel even when he sat like that. Wanting to be as unnerving as possible Regis had coated himself head to foot in the blood that surrounded him. The effect was more then Regis could have asked for as he allowed his eyes to change so that piercing red Iris’s stared out from black sclera. Every time the other vampires entered he didn’t move other then to follow them with his eyes. 

Turns out vampires got uncomfortable when the eyes of a predator were on them long enough. 

Finally after a month and a half the blood began to start coagulating and pockets were becoming rancid. Regis could feel the slowly decomposing liquid stiffening his hair and pockets of coagulated blood shifted around him like jelly any time he moved. Regis would get wafts of rotting meat every so often though he was so nose blind at this point he couldn’t tell if he would even be able to smell blood after this was over.

The blood had another advantage. Despite his refusal to partake, the blood that was surrounding him was having an effect on his physiology. The wounds at his wrists and ankles that he had torn open on and off throughout his imprisonment were healed. He felt a calm strength radiating through him as his old injuries had begun to truly knit back together, and he felt the length and thickness returning to his hair. His claws felt thicker, and his skin felt tighter and fuller over his frame. He had begun to feel younger. He hadn’t tasted a single drop of blood, even by accident, but by passive osmosis he was gleaning the benefits and none of the hangover.

Hunger was truly gnawing at him at this point however, but not for what was surrounding him. His hunger to be around friends and enjoy a hearty meal and an ale was pricking at his brain more often then not. His mind wandered frequently to the outside world. He gleaned what he could from the humans that were brought in, and the humans themselves continued the story of the vampire standing against his own kind against all odds. He still kept track of them. Every one of them. It generally look from a day to three to fully bleed out and be taken, and humans were nothing if not absolutely fantastic oral history keepers.

Every time that the elder had come in to check on him he kept his eyes glued on him and stayed silent despite the questioning. 

Finally after two months of this something changed.

The humans were cleared out, and Regis sat alone. He meditated silently, waiting. Dettlaff had gone quiet in an effort to speed his recovery, and Regis was left alone with his thoughts. 

Another week passed of being completely alone before there was a hiss and a mechanism Regis had been unaware of up to this point opened up and the blood in the room slowly began to drain. Regis watched in fascination as the coagulated bits and pieces of blood found their way to the trough and were dropped who knows where. When the room was drained the sticky residue coated everything. Regis’s cage still had a pocket of the liquid in it but untill the doors opened it would stay. 

Soon after the last bits of what was going to drain was out, Regis smelled fresh water. Water began running down the walls it’s sweet smell filling Regis to the brim with true thirst. He watched in elation as the water began to clean away the blood and refuse. He didn’t dare move however. When there was a click at the door his eyes locked onto the spot. The Elder walked in, wearing his human guise. He walked in front of Regis and took stock of his blood coated form.

“There has been a change in plans.” The elder stated instantly perking Regis’s interest. “I have a proposal. If you complete this task, you shall earn your true freedom from me. You will be allowed to go your own separate way.”

Regis stared up at him his eyes narrowing but saying nothing.

“There has been a threat, several in fact, to the wellbeing of vampire kind as a whole.” Regis looked down to his knees as he listened intently, detecting true nervousness from the Elder. “If you agree to terms, I will release you.”

“I will not agree to terms until I know what they are.” Regis stated surprised at the candor of his own voice as it filtered out of his mouth. “I am more then perfectly content to waste away in this cage if the deal is not to my liking.”

The elder regarded him coolly.

“First thing, we know of your connection to one Geralt of Rivia, now Geralt de Corvo Bianco.” The elder spoke.

“He can handle himself I am not concerned.” Regis snorted.

The elder frowned.

“We are in need of his services. First and foremost we need to remove Orianna from this world, and laws bind my hands. We need you to treat with him.” The elder stated clasping his hands behind his back. “You are familiar with him, and he you. Thus we require your services.”

“Task one.” Regis intoned flatly. “You are hiding your true intent. Speak.”

The elder sighed and looked at a point in the wall the muscles in his jaw tensing.

“For the past eighty years or so I have felt a presence.” Regis watched in interest as the Elder began to pace through the shallow water what was still flowing through the prison. “My first contact with it, it swung out at me and hit me with the force of a bludgeon. Wild, in fury, in pain. I attempted to reach out to it to grab the thread, but it was like there wasn’t any thread. The attack lasted for about a half hour. Then it became still and there was a vacuum where it existed. It’s like it was never there.”

“A presence, what sort of presence?” Regis tilted his head slightly regarding the elder as he paced. “I am going to need to know everything in detail if I am to commission him.”

“Before I go further this needs to be treated with digression.” The elder said his eyes snapping to meet Regis’s “You will not tell this Geralt of what the true matter is.”

Regis scowled the expression cracking some of the dried blood on his face and causing an unpleasant itching sensation. 

“I will use my own discretion on what I do or do not tell Geralt.” Regis snapped baring his teeth. “You are in need of my services, not me of yours. Geralt is a Witcher, not some half baked human hunter, I can’t send him in blind to a situation we know nothing about. Nor would I ever.”

“This matter is of upmost secrecy Emiel.” The Elder said his temper flaring and his human guise wavering. “This goes for your blood bonded as well. I can’t rightfully let this go and get out. There is a potential threat to us Regis, one that is not an annoying pest but a real threat.”

“And yet here you sit in front of me ringing your hands refusing to do things for yourself.” Regis snapped upward his chest slamming against the bars the sound and quick movement causing the elder to jump backwards. “You sit here in your cave ‘guarding’ the entrance to our world. A world which most of us who have been born here know nothing about. You dictate and rule through fear, while you yourself are a coward. Humans have a word for what you did to me, and what you are still attempting to do to me. Rape. You will not dictate to me what I can or can’t do, nor what I can or can’t say, nor what I can or can’t have. I could have crushed your heart torn your body limb from limb, done to you what you did to me. Instead I took what you were doing to me, and twisted it into your ultimate humiliation. You are weak. You will always be weak.”

The Elder stared at Regis wide eyed. 

“Customs be damned. You cling to them and the laws so fiercely and so harshly it’s a wonder that as a species we have survived at all. You claim humans are inferior, yet here you are acting like nothing but the basest of animal taking what you want by force, trying to prove your dominance by physical prowess. The others they know to fear you because of your actions. But rest assured what was witnessed has been noticed and if you so much as lay a finger on me from this point forward I will be seen as a martyr. How strong will your cause be when someone who has stood up to you and won dies.”

The elder grinned his sharp teeth catching the torchlight. Regis stepped back from the bars, and the elder started to laugh.

“History can be changed by a word.” The elder spoke. “Khagmar can attest to that.”

“Wait, what does he have to do with this Khagmar is dead.” Regis felt an icy snake of fear creeping into his heart.

“Precisely.” The Elder said. “And so shall you be, and so shall Dettlaff be, Geralt be, and Dandelion, Zoltan, Ciri, Yennifer and any other person you vaguely hold any sort of regard for.”

Regis felt his heart constrict but kept the expression on his face neutral.

“Now I will tell you again, discretion will be needed in this matter.” The Elder spoke regarding Regis. “You will provide that, am I clear?”

“Crystal.” Regis affirmed.

“After that initial attack, I was shaken, but I wrote it off as a fluke.” The elder spoke and began pacing again, Regis seethed internally but clenched his jaws shut with a force of will he didn’t know he had. “It was 10 years when the attack happened again. This time it was shorter, more controlled, but it was the same presence. Several years went by, then it hit again. The time between attacks steadily decreased. Some of them weren’t even attacks per say, just brushes. Sometimes I found feel longing, want, fear, frustration, humor. But the worst was when the rage hit. The amount of force behind these attacks physically stagger me, and have begun to physically stagger those in the closest proximity to me.”

“The Presence is a vampire, I can feel it down to my core. But try as I might I can not grasp a hold of the presence.” The elder said frustration evident in his words. “ I have consulted with the other elders, and they can feel it as well.”

“One of the worst attacks occurred the moment the door to our world was open again during the conjunction.” The Elder said catching Regis’s eyes as he spoke. “For the longest time I thought it was you. I had my spies follow you. When we thought you dead and it was confirmed that you were no longer physically among us I still felt the lash. I was willing to re-introduce the theory when we found you were alive, however I had my eyes on you during the conjunction, and you displayed nothing. You are able, as is Dettlaff, to cut me off completely. Much like this presence. You were there when the doors opened to our world, you and him. I saw you, and I knew the moment I did that way we were feeling did not come from or originate from you. That was one of the worst ones, it staggered me and those around us so badly that none of us made it through. I did partially but was sundered. When the door closed on me the combination of my physical injuries and this mental attack hit me so hard I lost consciousness. That’s when I truly knew how big of a threat this was.” 

“I had been trying up till this point to pinpoint the attacks, and the presence was moving around without a pattern.” Regis couldn’t help being fascinated by this. “All I knew is that it was primarily in the north somewhere. As the years have gone on it’s slowly been circling with little deviations here and there. And for the past year I am almost certain the presence is somewhere in Toussaint.”

“It went from being years between attacks, to months, to weeks, and now as of this past year, days.” The elder said grimacing. “the ones recently are but ghosts of what they were, but they are here. And that concerns me above all. I cannot track it no matter how hard I focus. I can’t make a connection with it. It is completely one-sided. I feel it is hunting us slowly.”

“Ah so there is it. You want to send me, someone who you view as utterly expendable, with the one witcher who lives on your doorstep, a nuisance who has yet to prove himself such, and you want to send us to confront a blind power you no nothing about.” Regis said regarding the Elder.

“And to have him remove Orianna.” The elder added.

“Ah yes, the one vampire who has your ear at all times.” Regis quipped.

The elder snarled. 

“Do we have a deal or not.”

“There have been worse deals.” Regis shrugged.

The elder made a motion with his hand and suddenly the cage dropped into the floor. Just as quickly the manacles holding Regis around his feet and wrists released. Regis felt his power flooding back into him like a Tsunami. He wasn’t prepared for how it would feel after months of deprivation. He quickly schooled his features and groaned as his began to feel the tightness of Magic flowing back into him. The elder mistook his groan for pain and fished in his robes.

“Here I am sure you must be famished.” The elder said handing over a large crystal decanter filled to the brim with a strange glowing bluish purple liquid. 

Regis schooled his eagerness to get anything into his stomach and took the bottle with a smooth motion. He quickly popped the cork and sniffed it. It smelled like the door to the vampire world, but richer, thicker. It had some of the nuances of blood, but it smelled so much more neutral that Regis balked.

“What is this?” Regis said looking through the crystal to the glowing fluid as it swirled.

“That is a liquid that naturally occurs on our world, It is but one of many things we used to sustain ourselves. It contains high concentrations of the liquid magic needed to fuel our bodies. On our home world things are harsher. We age there. Still slowly in comparison to humans of this world, but this world is so utterly soft that we can go for great lengths of time with out the need to imbibe. Humans themselves are concentrators of this sort of magic on this world. We have looked to them for substance, and to a lesser degree animals, and monsters, however their blood to us is also a poison. To much and we will loose ourselves, as you have experienced.”

“The narcotic effect of human blood is non-existent in this liquid. No animals, people, or any creatures otherwise have been used to make this ” The elder said watching as Regis’s eyes widened.

Regis didn’t wait. He smelled no trace of any sort of poison that could harm him.

He quickly tilted the bottle to his blood covered lips and drank deeply. The coolness of the liquid surprised him, and the warm feeling it sent out to all his limbs was pleasant but not intoxicating. Regis shuddered when tingling overtook his limbs. Being submerged in blood had healed him a good deal a side effect Regis would have liked to avoid at the massive loss of life for his imprisonment. This liquid however shot through him like a spark and he could feel things that had healed wrong, internal issues, and years of hardship and abstinence reverse itself in a single instant.

Regis let the bottle fall back from his mouth and corked the remaining quickly. The taste was indescribable, the only thing he could ascribe to it was mothers milk. Perfectly formulated, mildly flavored, a substance he had never encountered in all of his years working as an alchemist.

The elder reached for the bottle but Regis swiftly moved it.

“Consider this down payment for the job.” The elder backed off and wrinkled his nose.

“I require several things.” Regis said looking down to his body which was still covered in drying blood. “First I require a bath. Second, I require a list of names of all the vampires that have brought the humans used in sacrifice.”

“You can not have that.” The elder said stepping back.

“I can and I will.” Regis said his eyes shooting to the elder and narrowing. 

“You are in no position to make demands…” The Elder started but Regis held up his hand.

“I am in the perfect position to make demands.” Regis snarled his claws lengthening. “And should you or any other vampire put your hands on those I care for in attempts to manipulate me further. I will make my revenge brutal.”

The elder clamped his mouth shut.

“The third I require is access to my blood brother Dettlaff. I know he has gone to ground, I only need to know where.” Regis said standing up straighter. “The fourth thing I require is access to records about Orianna, where she has been, where she has been sighted. I am guessing she has found a way to shield herself from your eyes and influence even as a Bruxa, another small detail that you left out.”

The Elder growled and looked away, not bothering to give a response. 

“Your influence is waning Fabricio.” Regis smirked. “Higher vampires are your equal… but a Bruxa, the scandal!”

“You will have what you need.” The Elder said simply and was gone.

Regis stood for a moment shocked still. No one was in the prison with him any longer. Regis took a step outside of the box he had been held in and stepped over the trough and into the still flowing water. The Gentle trickle ran over his feet and Regis wiggled his toes in delight. Regis didn’t tarry long and walked towards the door. He swiftly ducked through it and was met by a small retinue of vampires in the masks.

“We shall escort you to your chambers.” The one closest to him stepped out. 

Regis nodded and moved forward falling into step between the masked vampires as he walked. They wound around several tight hallways and doors made of the same metal his cage was made from, then after the last door the area opened into a large chamber where an audience of Vampires were waiting. Most had rags around their noses or masks like the ones his escort were wearing. As they stepped down the stairs the crowd began to part around him. Regis walked tall and watched with curious eyes still half in and half out of his vampire form, his red eyes darting around the audience as they looked at something akin to fear, wonder, and reverence.

There were murmurings and whispers as the vampire who resisted made his way to the opposite side of the chamber and was lead back into another hallway. This was a place that Regis had recognized as soon as he set foot in it. He was on his way to the guest rooms deep within the earth beneath Toussaint. In general these were reserved for families who paid great tribute to the elder and his ilk.

As soon as they lead him to his room and Regis stepped in he was surprised. It was lavish. There were sitting tables, an alchemy stand, and a very plush looking bed. Books lined the walls, and an inkwell and fresh parchment paper laid off on a small but elaborately carved desk. On the bed were two sets of clothes. One was familyar, though the shirt and trousers had been replaced because of how tattered they had gotten over the years, his duster, vest, belt and boots greeted him like an old friend. Beside them were a set of formal wear. Regis would have loved to inspect it further but he was still covered from head to toe in gore. 

“There is a bathing chamber through there, it has been open to you. Please wash yourself before making use of the bath.” The guard in the mask said. “There is a bucket next to the tub and drains. Food will be brought to you while you bathe. Do you have any preference?”

“Stew of some sort, maybe rabbit some rice, and a waterskin.” Regis said practically salivating at the idea of getting out of the sticky clothes and getting fed. “Have you been tasked with following me around or am I allowed to have privacy?” 

“We will leave the room on your order, we are to be your escort and help you with what you need while you stay here in the enclave.” The vampire said. “We have been given orders to give you access to what ever you need. The elder has gone back to guard the gate and he says he is not to be disturbed. If you need to talk to him I recommend getting an aragonite crystal.”

“What if I need to go back there?”

“It would be at your own risk.” The guard shrugged. 

“Leave me in peace, when I am ready to emerge I will.” Regis said turning towards the bathroom.

When Regis heard the door click closed he sighed. Despite how good his body felt just now, he was mentally exhausted from keeping himself in a meditative state for the last few weeks of his imprisonment. He hadn’t had proper sleep or a proper meal in months. He felt stiff, and creeky with the lack of movement, and the small walk to his rooms had caused cramps in his legs from not being used.

Dragging himself to the washroom he looked at the area. A ornately decorated bucket and a basket of sweet smelling soaps met his eyes as well as a bathing stool. The crowning glory of this place, were the large tubs. The water was constantly moving and was kept to an ideal temperature to cause relaxation. It was also constantly filled. 

When Regis saw movement from out of the corner of his eye he spun. On the countertop sat a picture frame. No, not a picture frame. Regis approached it curiously looking at it’s black surface. When he picked it up he saw a horror looking back to him. He almost dropped the thing before the realization dawned on him. He was looking at a mirror. And the being inside the mirror was himself. Regis stared wide eyed and the reflection mimicked him. Regis tapped on the surface with a claw, and felt a pulse of energy from the mirror. Then he sniffed it. Then he laughed because he was being ridiculous. The reflection laughed with him, and it looked utterly terrifying.

Regis had paintings of himself in the past, and quick etchings. So he knew what he looked like under normal circumstances, but what he saw in the mirror was a stanger. Glowing red eyes, a face caked in muck, several clotted dreadlocks of hair, and a beard also with clotted dreadlocks peered back at him.

“This must be a relic from our home world.” Regis murmured to himself has he pulled up his lip to look at his fangs. “Of course that would be the first thing I would look at when I finally get a mirror.”

Laughing, he quickly allowed his body to revert fully to human. A stranger covered in gore stared back at him.

“Enough of this.” Regis said setting down the mirror back on the counter. He would come back to the mirror, he was to intrigued to not want to see himself. Human mirrors were made with Silver, which some vampires were outright allergic to like Dettlaff, and they reflected light in such a way that a vampires visage was never quite right in them. They also had difficulties casting shadows, unless it was by moon or firelight. Regis felt himself scoffing at his line of thoughts as he went to the tub and filled the ornate bucket with the warm water. 

His clothes were stuck to him. The linen had become stiff with drying blood, and the rancid blood itself had formed a glue like bond to Regis’s skin. Sighing Regis sat on the ground beside the bucket and poured some of the water on himself to get the clothes off. The pants came first because they were the least stuck. Regis shuttered when he kicked them away from his feet. Next came the shirt, which was more difficult as part of his hair and dried into a clump on the back of the shirt. After another bucket of water and the use of part of a bar of soap he had gotten it dislodged and kicked it over to the pants. 

Now Regis could finally start on himself. Taking another bucket full of water from the tub he lathered up a rough feeling sponge and started to go to town on his body. He worked from his head downward. First he washed his hair with the provided shampoo. He wound up using his fingers to break apart the worst of the knots, and remove the sticky clots from his hair. He hadn’t had time while he was traveling with Dettlaff to comb it and he hadn’t touched it since he had arrived and been imprisoned. 

Next came the beard, which was much the same as the hair but much more tender. After that he scrubbed the skin on his face till he felt pain and then dumped the rest of the bucked on himself. Filling it up again he stood and began scrubbing his body. He was covered in hair from tip to tail as it was, and every last bit of it was catching the last bits of the gore. He again scrubbed himself starting from the shoulders. Two buckets later and some very awkward bending to get blood out of areas it had no business being and he finally felt clean.

The next step was one Regis was looking forward to the most of this day. When he finally eased down into the tub he groaned. His skin was raw from the scrubbing and it stung in the heat of the water. Reaching over to the basket where the shampoo had been he found some bathing oils, orange oil, some lavender oil some soothing herbs and some Epsom salts. Throwing caution to the wind he dumped them all into the tub without preamble. 

The smell enveloped him and instantly took him to a different place and time. Suddenly the thought that he was going to see Geralt soon trickled through his consciousness. Geralt who was fastidious about cleaning himself whenever he got the chance. More times then not when they managed to find an inn Regis would just about have to pull the man out of the tub by his short hairs to get him to either sleep, eat, or leave. The thought of seeing his white haired friend put such joy in his heart he could hardly contain it. 

After about falling asleep in the bath twice Regis pulled himself out of it and went back over to the countertop where the mirror was. Looking into it he scoffed at his scruffy beard. Grabbing the razor that was provided he quickly set down the mirror. He knew how to shave his face by feel. Attempting to do it when he could see himself was likely to cause more issues then to help. He used his fingers to guide the sharp instrument across his chin neck and lips, Getting the shape right he then quickly trimmed down the sideburns he had grown fond of while staying with Dettlaff. 

Then he picked the mirror back up. He was honestly more shocked by his appearance then he should have been. What stared back at him was a man. His hair was mostly black with a few silver streaks at the temples giving him a hint of sophistication. His eyes were a deep rich brown that was so dark it was almost black. He tentatively felt his eyebrows, eyelashes and cheeks. His lips were thin and drawn and his nose he felt was very stately if a bit on the large end of the spectrum. Next he looked at his ears, which again were large, and mostly hidden by his hair. He looked more human then he could have imagined himself looking. 

When Regis felt tears welling into his eyes and looked in the mirror to see his eyes wide and glassy, he had to set the mirrior down again. Somewhere deep inside his soul a little piece of himself began to start healing. He had long thought himself a monster. A True terrible monster with a visage to match. The drawings Dettlaff had done of him recently, and others had done of him over the years, he thought they were being kind. Guilt ate at him for all the lives he had needlessly spent and he felt his outward appearance likely matched the inner monster.

Regis let himself over to tears that came, and the sobbing that followed. He felt broken on the inside, he didn’t break in front of the elder, or in front of the other vampires. He didn’t break around Geralt when he didn’t move to stop Dettlaff from killing Syanna. He didn’t break around Dettlaff when he found his body full of molten metal. Now finally unwatched, and alone, and staring at his own normal looking reflection he broke. The mantra that filled his mind was why? Why did you let it happen, why didn’t you fight harder, why did you have to drink, why did you let those people die? Why didn’t you tell him when you had the chance? It was to much and when he felt the sudden comforting touch of his blood brother sleepily through their bond he wept harder. 

Now it was because he knew he truly wasn’t alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY Regis is out. poor dude :( He is strong though, stronger then he realizes! I hope you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it. I have over 200k words into this thing and gave myself a very large cushion so I can continue my weekly updates! Looking forward to bringing it back to the present in the next chapter!!


	7. To Old Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, no beta! If you see mistakes lemme know!

Geralt had to blink himself back to the present as Regis finished telling him what had happened when he returned to Toussaint. As soon as the spell of the story broke Geralt found himself moving to the vampire and taking him into his arms. 

“You are not alone in this. Not by a long shot.” Geralt said holding onto Regis like he did with Ciri so many times over the years. He could feel him crying. The tears and the shudders were silent the only sound an occasional broken sigh and a small sniff. Geralt could feel his body wanting to respond in kind, but his need to protect his fragile friend forced him to calm the feeling down.

“Geralt, thank you for this.” Regis choked. 

Geralt only grunted a response as he stroked Regis’s back his mind fully focused on formulating a plan to get Regis out of this mess. Geralt felt Regis shudder as the last of his magical strength gave out and suddenly the barrier that had been around them disappeared. Geralt instantly felt his guard go up.

Regis pulled away slowly wiping his eyes and face with the handkerchief that was still covered in Geralt’s blood. It lingered under his nose for just a moment. Geralt saw it but said nothing as the vampire re-gathered himself.

“Ok so lets focus on Orianna” Geralt said 

The wary tired look Regis gave him shut him down.

“OK well, lets focus on her tomorrow.” Geralt mumbled sheepishly. The thankful look Regis gave him as the vampire began to stand made Geralt’s heart tumble. He watched for a moment as Regis adjusted his bags and then turned his ears towards the palace. It was well after midnight, and the festivities were still going on, but they had settled somewhat. Geralt groaned as he forced himself upwards, a painful throb in his knee brought back another thought.

“There is another piece of news you may want to hear.” Geralt said limping momentarily as blood began to flow back to his legs. 

“I don’t honestly know if I can take any more news.” Regis drawled turning and helping Geralt right himself around. “To be truthful I wish I could go to ground right now.”

Geralt grunted an affirmation. His amulet gave a tug and suddenly fireworks began lighting up the sky. 

“There is another person on the game board. Another several people.” Geralt grunted as he began to slowly walk back to the path, leaving the fallen tree behind. He continued when he felt Regis’s presence beside him. “Fringilla Vigo, Emperor Emhyr, Marvain Vorhiss . You know Yennefer is here already as you saw her already this evening. Ciri is here as well. We have the Duchess imprisoned, and the whole retinue is on it’s way. The only reason Dandelion isn’t here right now is because Triss has Pricilla undergoing some last minute treatments to make sure her voice and body are strong enough to entertain.”

“I am surprised Dandelion is still with her.” Regis said his eyes widening. “I thought for sure it was a passing fancy.”

“You will also be surprised to learn that he has reclaimed his lordship over the past year. Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, is alive and well. Turns out his father had disowned him due to him… well being himself. And told him if he ever hoped to take over his family’s lands he damned well better find a women and produce an heir.” Geralt grinned, and let that sink in for a minute before Regis caught on. 

“He’s! You mean?” The news seemed to stagger Regis as much as it had Geralt when he first learned of it. “How far along?”

“Five months,” Geralt nodded feeling rather proud of his friend. “Pricilla has taken to pregnancy like a bird to the winds. At least according to Dandelion. His missives are filled to the brim with praise for her, praise for himself, and a very sudden very awkward need to ask advice to me about raising children.”

Regis laughed the tension washing away from his face. Geralt smiled back but the undercurrent of stress was still there. Idly as he watched Regis he wondered how it seemed the vampire could go from emotionally wrought to happy in such a short amount of time. Not for the first time he wished he could follow suit. When Regis’s face fell in concentration Geralt almost stopped walking. 

“Fringilla Vigo.” Regis spat the term like a curse. “Now there is a name I would have rather left in the dust. I guess it makes sense seeing as this is her home, but I thought for sure that she had been imprisoned after the events leading up to Stryga.”

This time Geralt looked sheepish. 

“Well she was, and still is sort of.” Geralt started earning a confused look from Regis. “We never did get to chat about that part of things when I saw you last. To much was happening. When we were prepping to fight the wild hunt we realized we needed all of the magic backup we could possibly get. Mrs. Vigo had been imprisoned by Emhyr for many reasons, chief among them was attempting to steal Ciri for Vilgefortz. But when push came to shove during the battle we needed them, all of them. And due to their willingness to help rather then hurt they have been allowed to live.”

“That, does not sound like Emhyr.” Regis said pausing in his stride. 

“It wasn’t.” Geralt shrugged. “Seems as though my old flame has a hot spot for dominating the other Sorcerers of the lodge. Yennefer is in charge of the old Lodge at this point. Right down to Philippa Eilheart. The only reason this is possible is because when we were fighting the wild hunt at Kaer Morhen, Yennefer did two things that had been unprecedented. The first was her ability to guide Avallac’h, through the trial of the grasses to be able to break a curse, and she did it with little more trouble then some exhaustion and some vomit on Avallac’h’s behalf. The second was creating a barrier around Kaer Morhen that actually protected the castle for a good hour when we finally found Ciri and voted to confront the red riders on familiar ground.”

Just talking about that particular bit of history still clenched Geralt’s heart. He had realized some time ago that the pain wouldn’t sting as harshly but it would always be there. Regis missed his grimace as he looked up to the castle. 

“The amount of magical power needed to do such is staggering.” Regis breathed his eyes far away.

“She repeated it a second time, with even better results when we confronted the Red riders in Skelege.” Geralt said the awe in his voice evident. “Outside of Ciri’s wild powers I had never seen anything like it. The control was first rate, and all of the sorcerers of the lodge were their to witness it. That being said most of the sorcerers are afraid of her now, which for her is one of the best things that could have happened. She had been treated horribly by every matter of magic user throughout her career to finally be in a position of power over them is a very sweet victory.”

“Yet that doesn’t explain why Yennefer wasn’t imprisoned by Emhyr.” Regis cocked his head. “Seems as though she would be on his list of ‘people that kept my daughter from me’”

“Well that’s, a little more complicated.” Geralt rubbed the back of his neck. “So. After Vilgafortz, I died, Yennefer died, we both got revived, and I wound up joining Eriden in exchange for Yennifer, and chose to ride with the Red riders to hunt for Ciri. I still only have sporadic memories of the time because of a spell used on me. Eriden was on a bug hunt for her because she made a pact with Avallac’h to bed the elf king Auberon and produce an heir. Unfortunately we all had the same goals for a while and I fully planned on getting out of there with Ciri as soon as we had her, but that didn’t come to pass. Here is where it gets fuzzy. I know that I joined, and that I road across the realms. But when I finally disengaged from them I lost most of my memory.”

Regis looked at him confused. Geralt snorted. There was much more to it then that, but Geralt could feel hesitation creeping into his thoughts.

“See I told you it was complicated.” Geralt groused pushing past Regis to think as he walked. “Anyway, turns out I wasn’t the only one with a lost memory. Yennefer lost hers as well when she disengaged from the Red Riders. For a time the lodge ‘sheltered’ her. When she started to regain the memories, and I was away with the Red riders, she ran to the only person who had any connection to Ciri who had any power.”

“Emhyr.” Regis said catching up and walking beside Geralt again as they started towards the stone steps back up to the castle. 

“Emhyr is exactly right.” The ice in Geralt’s voice was front and center as him and Regis ascended the stairs. “When I finally popped back to the continent from Tir na Lia, I had lost my memory. Triss was staying at Kaer Morhen, the why is fuzzy. The only thing I had was Vesemir saying that I had a sorceress that was close to me that I loved, and a single memory of someone in my mind saying that Triss should be happy. I made the mental connection of ‘oh then I should be with Triss’. And so I was, and so I did.”

“You had told me before about Triss, you told us that she had attempted to woo you away from Yennefer before, to no avail.” Regis said as they reached a landing and began winding back around the building. “I remember you specifically feeling sorry for her because she was very young and beautiful and relatively pure of heart.”

“Young, Beautiful, yes.” Geralt said nodding. “But as I learned far, far from pure of heart. She wound up taking advantage of the situation. And I, not knowing any better, and my friends, who all disliked Yennefer, let me continue onward. As I was gathering my memories back by bits and pieces, She kept on with the ruse, not telling me anything about Yennefer.”

“Turns out she was in league with the lodge the whole time, and the lodge had machinations to keep Yennifer in the dark about me as well.” Geralt snorted. “They wanted to keep us apart, because they figured if they could control Yennefer they would eventually get their hands on Ciri. When Yennefer finally got her memories back she ran to Emhyr. Thinking me dead or worse she sought comfort in him, much in the way I did Triss.” 

Regis was speechless.

“Triss began having second thoughts, and began to defy the lodge at this point, but I didn’t realize it.” Geralt said his eyes becoming cold. “The lodge, trying to gain the favor of Emhyr and save their hides told him that they would hand the north over to him on a silver platter. Triss took issue with it, and in retaliation they hired several viper school Witchers. Meanwhile I had gotten wrapped up in politics, again, as well as a contract to protect King Foltest. They saw their chance, and while I was in a private audience with Foltest, Another witcher, Letho, killed Foltest in front of me. I was so flabbergasted I didn’t even know where to begin.”

“That must be where your nickname of Kingslayer came from.” Regis said pensively putting a finger to his mouth. “You didn’t have your memories back at this point did you?”

Geralt shook his head.

“No, needless to say what happened over the course of the next few months changed the north completely. Triss wound up being kidnapped by Letho and by default the lodge. I wound up having to save a dragon from Phillipa Eilheart who thought to bewitch it. And I wound up helping the Scoia'tael save their skins and withdraw out of the political sphere of influence Emhyr had put them in. Everything went to shit. Radovid took over the whole of most of the north, the Redanians and Temarians tore eachother to pieces, and what was left of the north under Radovid’s Rule was an absolute nightmare.”

“What happened to finally get your memories back?” Geralt could feel the concern radiating off of the vampire. 

“Ironically I went to confront Letho.” Geralt said a small smile creeping across his face. “Letho asked me a simple question. ‘Don’t you remember me standing by your side as we fought the Red Riders to get your Yennefer back?’ It was instant. I literally stood there like a fucking stone while Letho drank himself drunk. Everything came back, everything.”

“What did you do?”

“I did what any sane person would do.” Geralt grinned. “I took the last of Letho’s Vodka.”

Regis barked out a laugh trying to cover his teeth as he did so. Geralt thought it was extremely endearing. 

“After everything settled and I got Triss back, and sent Iorweth away with the Elves future fully in his hands, I confronted Triss.” Geralt said as they entered the palace. “It did not go over well, and my temper got the better of me, as it often does. I wound up leaving her high and dry and hightailed it out of there to Kaer Morhen. I needed to think clearly, be alone, but not so alone that my thoughts would turn dark.”

Regis nodded as they entered the entrance hall and started their trek to the grand staircase again.

“I confessed everything to Vesemir, Eskel, and Lambert.” Geralt shook his head. “I felt like an absolute failure. They comforted me in the ways they all knew how. And of course after learning I had my memories back they were so relieved that they could barely contain themselves over that winter. When the spring came I was still morose and moody, I still felt like a failure. Vesemir offered to go on the path with me so we could attempt to find Yennefer.”

“What happened to her?” Regis asked as they ascended the stairs back to the hall in front of the ball room. 

“I mentioned that she had found comfort in Emhyr.” Geralt felt his voice go cold again. “Their relationship had progressed by that point. They both were hell bent on finding Ciri, both of them considered her their daughter. I do not know to many of the details other then Emhyr showed humanity to Yennifer that he hadn’t shown to anyone past Pavetta. At that point Yennefer knew what he had done, the fact that it was him that conspired with Vilgefortz to get Ciri and her mom to the city of the golden towers. She knew that he had lost his temper, but one of the things neither of us knew about was how Pavetta died.”

“After you had died we found out that Pavetta had happened to overhear Vilgefortz charming Emhyr. Emhyr was completely in the Mage’s thrall.” Geralt said stopping outside the door of the ballroom to take a quick look at the surroundings. Everyone he could see was drunk, or well on their way. The orchestra had gone from playing the typical fancy ball tunes to local tavern favorites, and the shoes had come off. 

“Apparently when they were out on that boat Vilgifortz was infuriated that Ehmyr had only brought his wife, and he had allowed his wife to manipulating him into letting Ciri stay with Calenthe.” Geralt frowned. “Pavetta really loved Emhyr with all her heart. And I think Emhyr did too. She attempted to kill Vilgefortz on that boat. She wounded him greatly. Took his eye. He threw her into the Sea, and threw Emhyr into a porthole. Emhyr wound up back in the city of golden towers an empty man. He was no longer under Vilgafortz’s direct control, but the mage had made it clear how powerful he was.”

“So his distrust for Mages is well earned.” Regis said his own voice growing cold. “But why Yennefer? She is a Mage, and by all rights she could have been manipulating him from the get go.”

“When she regained her memories and ran to him, he did imprison her.” Geralt said watching the dancers go to and fro. 

“He imprisoned me and worse.” Geralt startled and spun looking at Yennefer who was standing directly behind him and the vampire, her voice was ice. “To end the torture I did with him what I had done for no other man. I opened up my mind to him I gave him everything. I needed to find Ciri, and I thought Geralt dead. I did what had to be done. When he found out everything that had happened, and everything that I had been through he collapsed. I thought I had killed him. When he came to he was surrounded by guards who in turn were very much ready to put me to the death.”

Regis had gone on the defensive, Geralt Recognized it. The subtle grip on his satchel the fingers curled into the fist. His thin lips pursed into a grim line. Geralt’s amulet vibrated as another bubble surrounded them this time from Yennefer herself.

“He told them to give him the key and to leave us.” Yennefer said her violet eyes stormy with memory. “I was trussed up like a holiday goose, in my birthday suit, with the cuts and scars from his whip across my form. I didn’t know what to expect. He unlocked me from my Ditherium shackles let me down into a soft pile of hay, then he stripped.”

Geralt had already heard this tale before, but Regis had not, and his eyes went wide. 

“He came before me as I was still recovering and he kneeled in front of me.” Yennifer said a small smile crossing her face. “To have an Emperor bowing before you in all of his exposed glory, you can not imagine the power I felt in that moment as wounded as I was. He told me that since I had given him everything, it was only fair that he give me everything. He opened his mind to me, and I took advantage. I saw everything as he did, felt everything as he did. I learned the man inside and out, and what I had assumed to be a cold spiteful ruler turned out to be just a man, barely holding it together, who had been manipulated since he was a child, and still was.”

“Injured as we both were, inside and out, we had found someone who we could confide in.” Yennifer smiled wistfully. “He proved to me that the rumors of his impotence were greatly exaggerated, and the fact I did not have to hide myself from him, or him from me both put us into a state of need that I wasn’t accustomed to. We loved, we wept, we comforted, and in the end he decided that he would have me at his side, as both a lover and a weapon.”

Regis blinked and shook his head. 

“He wound up using me as a shield for some time to breach the machinations against him from the merchants guild, all the while he was going after the Lodge one by one.” Yennefer said her eyes becoming steel. “He started his plan to assassinate the lodge, and between him and I we wound up creating the perfect way to deal with both the leaders of the north that still stood against him, as well as the Sorceresses of the lodge. Emhyr had captured Letho as well. Letho had brought me to the Emperor on my order. Emhyr gave him a deal that he couldn’t refuse, and promised to re-build the Viper school of witchers if he were to give Emhyr aid. I had not realized that was what was promised, and when I told Emhyr that rebuilding a single school was impossible without the ability to create more Witchers he meerly shrugged me off. I was spurned because I rarely go back on my promises, especially to Witchers who have helped me greatly in the past without taking advantage of me.”

Geralt nodded and took up where Yennefer left off. 

“After finding this out of course, Letho confronted me.” Geralt said. “You know of what I told you. The first thing he did after I let him go was to go traipsing right back to the emperor and tell him I was alive.”

“At that point I was being put at the front of any major battle that needed to be given a boost, all the while I was using every avenue at my disposal to find Ciri.” Yennefer said. “I was at the front when Letho returned to Emhyr, and while Letho told Emhyr of Geralt, I learned that Ciri was alive, and was in Velen. I began to recklessly use my magic to try to track her, and in return our old foe the Red Riders returned.”

“When I returned home, the wild hunt hot on my heals, I was confronted by a very moody Emperor.” Yennefer said scoffing. “I was having none of it, and was beside myself with happyness that I had found trace of Ciri, I told him what I had discovered and his mood was lightened but was still Dark. He told me he had promised to not keep anything from me, but what he had discovered he was afraid to speak of. begrudgingly he told me that Geralt was alive.” 

“That, must have been hard for him.” Regis said empathy thick in his voice. 

“It was, but he knew what and who I was as a mage like no one else.” Yennifer sighed. “He gave me the information, and begrudgingly let me go knowing I was likely to go flying right back into Geralt’s arms. It was that freedom that drove me back to him. I sent a letter to Geralt tempting him back to me. Unfortunately the place where I wanted us to meet was attacked by both the wild hunt, and a clash between the Nilfgaardian and Temarian armies. and I had to retreat fairly quickly back to Vizima where Emhyr was holding court. I was so upset that everything was falling apart, and he was distraught about loosing me. We wound up making love the whole night through, both of us seeking comfort in what we thought would be our last night together, and for completely different reasons.”

“That of course was smashed to bits the instant I got a communication from one of our field agents that Geralt had been tracking me and was less then two days behind my trail.” She scoffed. “I flew from Emhyr’s arms without thinking, I wound up dressing, all the evidence of our lovemaking still present on my body. I was still being actively tracked by the wild hunt, so I decided that I needed to get to Geralt the old fashioned way.”

“When she found me, I was cross.” Geralt said simply crossing his arms. “I had a bad run of things, Vesimir had just left my side to go to take care of Kaer Morhen and prep it for the coming winter, I had just finished a contract that had left a sour taste in my mouth, and then She appeared. She immediately began ordering me to come with her to see the Emperor. To say I was angry was an understatement, especially given the fact that the last time I had seen the man I had wanted his head on a pike. When we got to a point where I could finally touch her and feel her, I smelled him. You know how sensitive our noses are, I could smell every inch of him on her, and when I confronted her she clammed up.”

I knew then what had happened, and what was going on.” Geralt said simply. 

“I heard the rest from Dandelion when I went to retrieve him.” Regis said casting sympathetic glances to Geralt and Yennifer in turn. “I am sorry that you had to go through all of that, but I am immeasurably happy that you have found your life mate Yennefer. Who would have thought that an Emperor that had been manipulated so badly before would learn to love that which he hated beyond all.”

Yennifer gave a small private and rather shy smile, and Geralt huffed.

“What about you Geralt?” Regis asked. “Did you ever go back to Triss?”

It was Geralt’s turn to sigh.

“No I have not.” Geralt grumbled. “She and I are still not on the best of terms, though she would very much like to try again. I for my part have sworn off searching and I am just enjoying my freedom. Don’t mistake my annoyance for jealousy, as much as I still do love Yennefer it is very much as a sister, the mother to my child and nothing else. I had time to work through my feelings while I was training Ciri for the path.”

Geralt saw a flash in Regis’s eyes he could not place and was instantly intrigued. 

“Come Geralt.” Yennefer said grabbing Geralt by the arm and leading him back into the ballroom and dropping the barrier. “Now that we have that unpleasant bit of history dredged up and relived, I would love to know what happened in the few hours you were out of my sight that would cause you such a wondrous set of cuts across your face. And these lovely bruises on your knuckles.”

Geralt balked and reached up to touch his face. The cuts still stung, and he could only imagine what he looked like. In all of the story telling he had forgotten that Regis had slashed him across the face. He quickly glanced back to Regis who politely coughed into his hand and glanced away. Geralt glowered at him and turned back to look down at Yennefer who was eyeing him mischievously.

“Had a disagreement with a tree.” Geralt mumbled feeling heat rise to his ears. 

“Ah yes, fighting a tree, such claws they have,” Yennefer said letting Geralt go when they reached their destination. The food table. Geralt instantly felt his stomach twist with hunger. “Hungry work that.”

“mmhmmm” Geralt already was shoveling food into his mouth as delicately as he could manage. Yennefer laughed and took a small plate and began to fill it with the choicest bits she could grab for herself. Regis chuckled and followed suit. 

“I am sorry Geralt is so rude master Regis.” Yennefer said daintily popping some grapes into her mouth, and floating over to the table where a vintner was filling cups. “I know that you have just arrived here, do you have a place to stay?”

Geralt watched as Regis stopped his movements and a small shake returned to his hand. The color drained from the vampires face as he looked over to Yennefer. Distress was written across his features. 

“I… I was planning on returning to the Cemetery.” Regis started and looked up when Geralt’s hand found it’s way to his shoulder.

“I took the liberties of moving everything you had left behind into my alchemy lab Regis.” Geralt said his voice soothing and calm. Yennifer noticed the change in Geralt and the vampire and her eyebrows shot up.

“I did it practically the moment you left.” Geralt said squeezing the vampire’s shoulder slightly. Regis visibly wilted into the touch and the color came rushing back into his face. 

“You didn’t have to Geralt.” Regis said his eyes downcast but a hesitant smile creeping across his visage. 

“Then it’s settled, you shall stay with Geralt.” Yennefer said breaking the tension and snapping Geralt and Regis out of the moment. “Here take these, Toussaint’s finest.”

Yennifer handed them both wine glasses, and raised hers. 

“To Old friends.” Yennifer said raising her glass.

“To old friends.” Regis said looking at Geralt. 

“mmhmmm” Geralt said his mouth again full of something delicious as he raised his glass.

The glasses clinked together and for a moment, all that was past was forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have realized as I have written more of this, that this story is going to be extremely long and rambling. It's becoming a study and a history filler on all the shit I want to see explained and want to see happen. So yeah... Long winded and all that.
> 
> Hope you all Enjoyed! Yay!


	8. Affliction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of rape, torture, abuse and such this chapter.
> 
> Again no beta, and Dyslexic, if you see errors lemme know.

The next day Geralt awoke with a headache, but surprisingly well rested. Himself, Yennefer, and Regis had drank well into the night and had caught Regis up on the comings and goings of Toussaint, and caught Yennefer up on Regis and Geralt’s adventures with the late Hanza. At some point Yennefer had drank enough to fall asleep and was helped by Geralt, Regis and Damian into her chambers where they dumped her on the couch and gave stern instructions that she not be disturbed till she was ready to be seen the next day.

Regis and Geralt were both a little tipsy on the way home. Their singing as they walked down the road with Roach in tow would likely get Geralt a talking to by any person who’s house he happened to walk by. Especially while he was belting out “The maid from Viccivaro”. Regis had attempted to shush him, but that had only encouraged Geralt. Both of them went into fits and peels of drunk laughter, and the night that had started so heavy ended on a very light note.

When they had gotten to the estate Barnibus was there to great them. He recognized Regis right away despite his changed appearance, and lead both of them inside. Geralt was still drunk when he lead Regis to the upstairs guest bedroom, And Regis was defiantly past the point of exhaustion. Geralt watched as Regis shrugged his way out of the crow covered doublet untucked his shirt and fell face first into the soft mattress. Geralt had laughed and turned to go down the steps but missed the first one and fell down into a heap at the bottom of the stairs. There was a muffled “Are you dead?” From Regis

Followed by Geralt oozing a “Nope not yet.” 

There was a half mumbled reply from the vampire as Barnibus helped Geralt back up and tut tutted the knot that would be there in the morning on Geralt’s Forehead. As soon as Geralt was lead to his room he stripped off every item of clothing he had minus his under garments and fell into bed.

It was the first night in a long time he didn’t have nightmares, And as he ran his tongue across his lips he realized the spots he had torn open yesterday had healed. He stretched out languidly before finally pulling himself back up, and beginning his day.

As quickly as he could manage he pulled on his field pants and a white linen shirt, and belted his field boots, and then finally joined the realm of the living. After taking care of his bodies needs and remembering the Godling Johnny fondly while doing so, he quickly wandered inside to smell fresh cut tomatoes from the garden and fresh bread. Marline was setting the table and laying out a wonderful looking summer breakfast with sliced tomatoes, toast, cured lardo, and some olive oil with some spices and garlic mixed in.

Geralt smiled and greeted the women.

“Have you seen Regis?” Geralt asked grabbing a slice of Tomato.

“Master Regis has not been down that I know of.” Marline said setting down a neat looking plate of pastries. 

Geralt frowned and looked up to the railing to the upstairs loft. Regis was still up there, he could hear his slow heart thumping rhythmically.

“Where is BB?” Geralt asked starting towards the stairs. 

“The late night had him requesting to sleep in, he actually hasn’t stopped by the house yet this afternoon as he went straight from the servants quarters to the Quarry to pick out marble for the bath you plan on building.”

Geralt nodded and climbed the stairs two at a time. 

“Regis…Hey Regis?” Geralt poked his head above the railing and glanced across the room. Everything was left where Regis had left it the night before. Creeping up the stairs further he glanced over to the bed. Regis had flipped over sometime during the night and was laying on his back. His mouth was open and slack one hand had been slipped into his half buttoned undershirt and his fingers were contacting and expanding under the shirt. His hair had come fully undone from it’s band and framed his head and face in messy waves. One leg was bent and propped up on the bed itself. And the other was on the floor.

Geralt took in the unexpected sight fully, his mind made a single statement that caused his capillaries to open and his ears to burn. 

Beautiful.

Geralt frowned wrestling control back from his body, He cursed to himself as he watched Regis sleep, his mind was filled instantly with things he should NOT be thinking about his friend, feelings he thought he buried a long time ago. Grumbling walked over to the bed with noisy feet and smacked Regis’s upright knee. 

“Hey there, Daylights wasting.” Geralt said smacking the knee again as Regis began to stir. 

Regis slowly opened his deep brown eyes and looked at Geralt his eyes half lidded. Regis licked his lips and moistened his mouth and instantly Geralt felt a shock down his spine. When Regis yawned Geralt quickly spun from the sight gripping his hands into fists so hard his palms hurt.

“I thought you didn’t sleep.” Geralt said pointedly looking at a painting of Higherarch Hammelfart he had put on the wall as a joke, anything to take away that sudden ache that filled him from his feet to his neck.

“Mmmmm, Contrary to popular belief, we can and do sleep.” Regis said stretching languidly. Geralt could hear a few soft pops and his imagination ran away with him. Geralt took a few steps forward to grab the rail and ground himself. “We do so enjoy dreaming, dare I say that some of the best ideas I have had have come from dreams on nights when I choose to sleep.”

“I bet.” Geralt said trying to slow his heart back down and even out his breathing. He was lucky Regis was just waking, otherwise he may have sensed Geralt’s growing unease with himself. 

Geralt chanced a look and Regis had moved himself to a sitting position and was currently buttoning his shirt. Now that Regis was sitting up, his hair was all over the place. He could see the day old black stubble making a shadow around the vampires mouth.

“Your hair needs worked through, it came out of the band last night.” Geralt said stupidly trying to distract himself. 

“Oh goodness.” Regis scowled and reached into his bag. He pulled out a silver comb and something black and flat that Geralt couldn’t make heads or tales of. 

“What’s that thing?” Geralt asked turning back towards Regis as curiosity had calmed his body down. 

“Oh this? This is that mirror I was telling you about. The Relic mirror.” Regis said reaching up and handing Geralt the Mirror. Geralt was surprised to see his reflection on the polished black surface of the stone. He grimaced at his own hair which was also in a state of disrepair. 

“So you can see yourself in it?” Geralt asked sidling up to Regis on the bed and putting the mirror back in front of them as Regis attempted to comb his hair. Sure enough Regis’s annoyed expression was mirrored on the surface.

“Yes, and you are making this more difficult then it needs to be.” Regis snipped pushing Geralt over on the bed to give his arms room to work. Geralt stuck his tongue out in the mirror then handed it back to the vampire.

“Geralt is he awake?” Marline called up. “I have a basin of warmed water for him.”

Geralt quickly hopped up and loped down the stairs to grab the basin from the old women. She smiled to him her excitement evident. Having guests meant that she could cook more. She had taken on another girl as an apprentice to teach her the Art of Tratsmara cooking, and the girl was looking forward to a few more mouths to feed as well. 

Geralt grunted his thanks and loped back up the stairs to see Regis standing and setting out a straight razor and sharpening it. He turned when Geralt brought the Basin to the table. 

“Want me to shave you while I am here?” Regis asked flicking the razor back and forth on the well used strop. 

Geralt reached up to feel his own chin and the stubble that had started. 

“No, gonna grow my beard back out, maybe make the Emperor double over from the poof of unnecessary body hair.” Geralt said watching as Regis pointedly put the mirror down and set his Razor down. 

“No doubt your scruffy facial hair would be on the forefront of his mind.” Drawled the vampire throwing a look to Geralt as he fished in his bag again for a small vial of oil.

Geralt watched in apt fascination as Regis spread a sweet smelling oil around his skin, and the scent that he knew was Regis’s personal scent began to get new notes disguising it against the colorful notes of Orange oil. The vampire picked the Razor back up and started in on his face with a precision that Geralt felt was disconcerting. When Regis tossed his head back and arched his neck to allow the razor to run there Geralt unconsciously tensed again feeling the heat to his cheeks and ears once more. This time he was caught as Regis looked over to him with confusion in his eyes. 

“What?” The vampire asked between strokes his brow Arching and head tilting slightly at the odd angle. 

Geralt quickly stood up. 

“Nothing.” He said pointedly looking away. “Breakfast is ready, come down when you are done.”

Geralt cursed his body as he left the confused Vampire behind and went to the breakfast table and flopped down with a ton of unnecessary force. Marline watched him and then watched him pout for a moment. Geralt looked up at her and she smiled at him.

“Does he know?” She said shocking Geralt just about clean out of his skin. 

“Does, he know, what?” Geralt said that pink hue creeping down to his neck. 

“Ah the better question, is, do you know?” Marline smiled a sly smile as she set out the last of the fruit. Geralt stared at her wide eyed as Regis came plodding down the stairs his hair combed but loose and his face freshly shaved. She quickly moved away from the table. 

“Here you are Master Regis, Breakfast. It’s simple today. it’s going to be hot, and a heavy meal on a hot day wont do.” She said. Regis took her hands and kissed her on the cheek. 

“Marline my dear you think of everything.” Regis said. “It’s a shame I am not here more often.”

Marline blushed and tittered , and Geralt by that point was so shaken he could barely grab what he needed to put the tomato and lardo on the warm bread. Shoving it in his mouth he huffed in satisfaction and began to chew. 

“I think the first steps we need to take with Orianna is to try and figure out how to get a message to her.” Regis said his graceful movements around the items on the table entrancing Geralt.

“Yeah, your right.” Geralt said with a full mouth breaking his eyes away from Regis and focusing on the problem at hand. He quickly swallowed. “The best thing to do is to speak to Anna Henrietta and get information from her on how she ordered supplies and through who. Though that may be difficult.”

Regis raised his brows as he chewed on some of the toast. 

“We need to get to the source, so we have to find the trail to disrupt it.” Geralt said piling his toast with several tomatoes and a few more lardo pieces then strictly necessary. “It’s like Hunting a Kikimore. They hunt by smell, if we mess up the trail they will be confused and the queen can come out and investigate. Alternatively we can track the worker to the source. Either way works and to be honest, Orianna seems like the tip of this iceburg”

Geralt took a bite of his towering tomato toast and chewed quickly.

“Why would it be difficult to talk to her?” Regis asked tilting his head. “isn’t she in prison?” 

“Yes, but the common folks version of a prison and a royals version are very different.” Geralt said taking another bite and talking through it. 

“She is in the tower isn’t she.” Regis deadpanned. 

Geralt couldn’t help the mirthful smile that passed his lips. As many times as they heard the Ex-dutchess yowl about someone offending her and sending them to the tower, it was sweet irony that she eventually wound up there herself. 

“Her mask broke though. We saw the cracks in it the first time we were down here in Toussaint.” Geralt said wiping his mouth and taking in a large glass of clear cool water. “When we interacted with her this last time when we were hunting for Dettlaff, she was a completely different person. I have never seen her so sweet and saccharine.”

“That did have me on edge, more so then I would have wanted to admit at the time.” Regis said taking a bite and thoughtfully chewing and swallowing. “I was so worried with everything that was going on that I couldn’t read her. I can read almost anyone, but something was so completely off about the way she was acting that it threw me off. I had never seen her so levelheaded and considerate.”

“That’s because she wanted something.” Geralt said his eyes growing cold. “She spoke to us the same way she would with Dandilion.”

“It’s a wonder he was able to get you out of prison.” Regis said his eyes widening. “She was going to let you hang wasn’t she?”

Geralt nodded as he took another bite of food. 

“Well we have a course of action, so lets start back to the palace after we finish here.”

Geralt nodded that undercurrent of unease settling back into his stomach.

 

They arrived at the castle in the mid afternoon after making a pit stop to both the garden and the alchemy lab to pick up some potions and set some up to slow brew. Geralt had an on staff alchemist who would watch the potion pots throughout the day and make sure their temperatures stayed consistent. He had expanded the labs from when Regis had first left, and they were now proper. Dried herbs and oils were everywhere, and neatly organized. Regis was pleased to see his old equipment had made it, and part of it had been commandeered to make the various potions Geralt needed at his disposal. He was doubly pleased to see that his gift of the mutegenor was not only in use, but working. Geralt had figured out how to work it to permanently modify certain mutagens his body had undergone.

Regis really could not have been more pleased, and had a warm feeling that washed over him all the way to the palace. 

When they arrived this time they went in one of the lesser entrances and walked through the “Working” Part of the castle to get to Damian De La Tours state office. They passed by the kitchen which Regis and the Hanza had spent a good amount of time while waiting for Geralt to get his act together and set out to find Ciri again. The image was bitter sweet, and the same oak table stood exactly where they had left it. 

When they got to the office Geralt could hear Yennefer’s voice speaking very sternly about matters of state. The Guards blocked their way.

“No one is allowed entrance.” One of them said looking at Geralt and Regis. Both of them were dressed in simple clothing. Regis was still in his undershirt, and Geralt wore his working clothes. 

“This is about an important matter that relates to states concerns.” Geralt made a sign with his fingers and instantly the guards looked at him in a dazed manner. “We will be going in now.”

“Yes, let me announce you.” One of the guards said reaching his hand to the handle of the door. “Names?” 

“Geralt De Corvo Bianco and Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy.” Regis chuckled a bit but otherwise bit his tongue.

The door flew open and the guard stepped in startling Yennefer, Damian, and the various scribes and diplomats inside the room.

“ANNOUNCING GERALT DE CORVO BIANCO, AND THE ESTEAMED EMIEL REGIS ROHELLEC TERZIEFF-GODEFROY” The Guard bowed and shut the door behind the Witcher and vampire and all eyes were on them.

“Really, your full names and titles?” Yennefer said obviously nursing a hangover headache. 

Geralt grinned and Regis stepped over to Yennefer with a familiarity that caused the others in the room to take a step back.

“Here Lady Yennefer, I have gotten you a gift.” Regis said fishing in his bag and handing over a small vial to Yennefer who took it and uncorked it. 

“What is it?” She sniffed a bit and recoiled from the bitter smell. 

“Ah, hair of the dog as it were.” Regis said smiling a tight lipped smile. 

Yennefer took it and shot it down wincing at the bitter taste. 

“As much as I enjoy seeing you two,” Damian said eyeing the vampire. “We are in the middle of a meeting. I do hope this is important.”

“It relates to the contract I have taken.” Geralt said. “I need access to the Duchess.”

There were quick murmurs and hushed whispers throughout the room. 

“Here quickly.” Damian said fishing into a pocket on his person. “Here is the key, have Seratio escort you.”

Geralt quickly grabbed the key and gave a small nod. 

“May I get a progress report after you are done?” Damian said settling back down at his desk and bringing out a quill.

“Most certainly.” Geralt said giving a small bow. “But matters such as this require discretion I would ask for a private audience. May I inquire to the whereabouts of Ciri, we may need her help.”

He felt Regis stiffen momentarily behind him and made a mental note.

“Ciri is currently fulfilling a small contract at one of the local vineyards.” Yennefer said her eyes clear and the pain obviously tapering off. “She will be back in a few days time. Since you are taking care of a state matter, Ciri is being used for local contracts while we have her here.”

“Ah.” Geralt said nodding. “I shall leave you to it.”

Geralt and Regis exited the office and looked at the guards who seemed confused. 

“Which one of you is Seratio.” The gruffness of Geralt’s voice caused the men to stiffen. 

“I am sir.” The taller of the two stepped forward. 

“You are to escort Regis and I to the tower to speak with the duchess.” Geralt said and the guard visibly swallowed.

“Yes sir, right away sir.” Geralt instantly smelled the fear coming off the young man and frowned. He allowed the guard to walk ahead of him and he fell back in step with Regis lowering his voice.

“There is fear here when I mention the Duchess.” Geralt said his voice barely above a whisper. “Can you smell it?”

Regis tilted his head back and took a sniff exposing his teeth slightly.

“It’s more then just that.” Regis said his eyes snapping forward. “Something else is afoot.”

Geralt instantly engaged his witcher senses. His vision narrowed, his hearing sharpened and his eyes dilated. He quickly took a long hard stiff of the area as they walked. There was a familyar smell around, one that put him ill at ease. Looking down the hallway he began cataloging movements, little signs of people passing this way. The smell was familyar somehow, so familyar that Geralt felt the hairs on the back of his neck prick up. As they walked by the kitchens the scent got stronger. 

“Hold up just a moment sir.” Geralt said and veered off into the kitchens. His eyes were focused and his movements were slow. As the guard plodded in he began to protest but Regis put a finger to his mouth. Geralt found what was creating the smell. He kneeled down on the floor near a chair. Several people from the kitchens had paused to watch him work. He moved the chair slightly and a brownish red streak appeared on the floor. Geralt dipped his finger down and took a very hearty sniff allowing his senses to run over the liquid. His eyes snapped open.

“Regis, this is vampire blood.” Geralt said looking down on the ground where the grout had been scrubbed clean recently. Geralt was about to taste the substance when Regis shot out and grabbed his arm.

“Geralt this is not just any vampire blood.” Regis whispered the color draining from his face. “This is my blood.”

“Are you injured?” Geralt asked and Regis shook his head. “How did this get here?”

“I don’t rightly know?” Regis’s face was pinched in confusion as he looked down on the floor. 

Geralt stood up in one swift motion startling the kitchen staff. 

“What was just cleaned up here?” Geralt barked looking to the head of the kitchen staff, a short portly man with whiskers on his face and drooping eyes. 

“I am not rightly sure. A maid came through here, she tripped and dropped a bottle she was holding. It spilled that stuff everywhere. Smelled like blood. The girl apologized and helped us clean up.” The man said an obvious blush rising to his cheeks. 

“That bastard of a man was smitten with her.” A women slightly older looking then the man put her hands on her hips. “The second she fell he looked at her and was drooling like a dog at a steak. Never seen the lass before, but she had the proper papers. She showed him a little leg, and blinked her brown cows eyes at him and she could have had the idiot eating out of her hand for a week.”

“What did she look like?” Regis asked tucking his hair behind his ear. 

“Hell if I know, she made a mess and I had to clean it up.” The women said “She showed me her entrance papers, and all I remember about the lass now that I think about it was her eyes, and her leg. She looked at me funny, then it’s hazy. I swear it on the heron”

Regis and Geralt shared a look. 

“Take one of your girls, preferably a literate one. Have her keep track of who comes and who goes from this place. Turn the paper in to Damian Del La tour. This is important. Take her off kitchen duty, but allow her to look like she is working.” The swiftness at which they nodded to Geralt’s demands and the determination in their eyes spoke volumes. 

“Honestly, with all the hubbub around here, we have to keep our Duchy safe.” The women nodded looking more like a soldier then a kitchen worker, her back straightened. 

“Don’t let anyone see that list, and don’t tell anyone that you are keeping it. Understood?” The curt nod from the women caused Geralt to nod in return.

“Come Regis, come Seratio. Lets move.” Geralt said turning out of the kitchen and allowing the guard to take point again.

“Why would they have my blood.” Regis said confused his eyes still wide. “This makes no sense.” 

“Is there anything you can think of that uses vampire blood as an ingredient?” Geralt asked as they continued walking.

“No, not that I am aware of.” Regis said frowning the tell tale shaking of his hand beginning again. “The only thing my blood would be good for is to maybe frame me for something?”

“Not likely.” Geralt said reaching out and resting his hand on his friends shoulder. “You have some very excellent character witnesses that know you would never do anything to hurt your friends, including myself.”

“What if they are trying to make resonance?” Regis said suddenly turning to face Geralt his face panicked and the shaking coming over his whole body. “In theory if they were trying to find something out about me, they would need my blood. Whatever they were trying to find out about me would likely just be found in my normal blood!”

Geralt settled both his hands on Regis’s shoulders. 

“No, you said yourself that in order to make resonance work the blood has to be in the same state as the memories they want to access.” Regis’s panicked eyes closed. And he leaned into the touch. “We had to get you into the same mental state as Dettlaff remember? When is the last time you lost any blood, what state were you in.”

“I was agitated and upset.” Regis said flinching away from the memories. “I had transformed, I wasn’t in my normal state. You are right Geralt. There is no way they could use that to find out any sort of discernible information.”

Geralt squeezed the vampires shoulders lightly in support. 

“Exactly.” Geralt said his voice causing Regis’s eyes to open. “So they are using it for something unknown. We do not know where that women went. She left no trace other then the blood, no smell, no footprints.”

Regis stood up straighter and the shaking stopped. 

“That in and of itself is a clue Geralt.” Regis said. “No trace, can’t be tracked. She had to have been a vampire.”

“Yes, so we have our first big clues, though where they fit right now is beyond me.” Geralt said his voice dropping. “Are you ok?”

Regis looked away shame coloring his cheeks. “Yes Geralt, thank you.”

Geralt shook his shoulders a bit and applied firm pressure with his hands. 

“We are in this together. Don’t forget that.” Regis nodded and gave Geralt a weak smile.

Geralt released his shoulders and the guard motioned for them to hurry.

The walk through the palace was arduous. They took Regis and Geralt through the servants halls so they could avoid being seen, several times they had to stop on narrow stair cases to allow people laden with food, plates, chairs, and various other items through. When they reached the non-descript door that lead to the tower Geralt brought out the key that Damian had given to him and pushed it into the lock. He waited for several seconds before turning the key and another darker staircase lead upwards.

“Seratio, wait here for us.” Geralt ordered using Axii again to cloud the guards mind. 

“Yes sir, I will wait.”

The tower was aptly named. It was a single landing with a steep staircase that was built into the wall with steps so narrow and a fall so far down that it would kill whoever miss-stepped. To top it off the staircase ran clockwise. Allowing for the usage of a sword if you were coming up the stairs, but if you were coming down you would have to use your left hand and would be at a disadvantage and be off balance.

“Stairways like this is why fencing was invented.” Regis groused starting up the steps after Geralt. “Why isn’t she guarded.”

“She is, just magically.” Geralt took the key out and handed it to Regis who examined it. “Anyone within proximity of the key can get in and out. The key has been enchanted to kill Anna Henrietta on contact. She knows it. Her cousin invented the enchantment to do so.”

“So Yen’s work?” Regis quipped handing the key back to Geralt. “That women is so much more clever then people give her credit for. I wish I had fuller access to magic. I would make myself a cabin in the woods that only people I wanted to allow would be able to come near.”

“You and me both.” Geralt chuckled.

“So you say, but I know you enjoy running your vineyard.” Regis ribbed a chuckle in his voice. “I think you enjoy the company of people around you constantly. Especially people that don’t fear you.”

Geralt thought on it for a moment the sudden pull on his amulet a reminder of times past. Kaer Morhen, and the busy winters of comradery. His body language must have changed because he felt Regis touch his arm.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to bring up old memories.” Geralt smiled sadly at the words his friend uttered. 

“Not sad, just bittersweet. I miss Kaer Morhen.” Geralt felt his voice getting wistful. “I would like to visit there this winter.”

“What is stopping you?” Regis asked the final platform coming into view.

“Everything it seems.” Silence reigned as they made the last hike around the Tower. 

The last door was metallic and heavy. A new addition from the last time Geralt had seen the room many years ago. Geralt inserted the key.

“Time to put on my mean face.” Geralt said bringing up his witcher mutagens to the forefront and projecting maleficence. He turned to look at Regis who visibly balked. The already dark skin around Geralt’s eyes darkened further, dark black veins popped up on his face, chest and arms. His eyes began to glow with an eerie internal light glowing yellow in the dark of the unlit stairway. Regis could feel the aura twisting around him. When Geralt smiled he could see his canines protruding more visibly then normal. Regis hazarded a look and saw Geralt’s fingernails had turned to claws. An Itching feeling surrounded Regis, something he could almost grab.

“How do I look.” Geralt’s voice carried a deeper tone then Regis was used to hearing and his normal cocky grin twisted into something evil. Regis shuttered. Geralt’s heightened senses picked up a new change in Regis’s normal scent, though he couldn’t place it.

“You look positively depraved.” Regis said his own grin following suit. Geralt chuckled the deep reverberation to his voice caused Regis to shutter.

“Lets go then.” Geralt said twisting the lock on the door. 

The door opened slowly and silently. Geralt and Regis stepped into the room. Ahead of them was another staircase, again clockwise, but this one wide enough to step onto without falling. Geralt took the key and slipped it back into his pocket and slowly closed the door. Both the witcher and the vampire stepped up the staircase on silent feet. About half way up Regis turned into his mist form and hovered around Geralt’s feet. 

When they reached the top, the room was very pretty. It was well decorated, had a beautiful bed, a bathing tub, desks, and bookshelves. Windows surrounded the top of the tower providing a glorious view of the lands around Toussaint. Geralt could feel the minute shift and sway of the narrow tower through his feet as the winds rocketed around it. It would be imperceptible to anyone else, but the effect it had was likely disconcerting to whoever was up here, especially during a storm. 

The sun was beginning to set and Geralt located Anna Henrietta. She was sitting at the window, watching the sunset. The sun played off her chestnut hair creating a ring of deep reds, and fire. She wore a gown that was not laced, likely having given up, and her hair lay long and wavy on her back. Regis had already gone from his feet and was sweeping the room looking for anything and everything that could be used against them and gathering it up. Geralt sent out his axii sign again this time putting a sense of unease into the duchess. Then he allowed his aura to lash out around him pushing his body to exude danger.

Anna shuddered bringing her arms around her shoulders. Geralt smelled something familyar in the room, something that he had committed to memory only the day before. He stepped forward on silent feet. Regis hid his form in the shadows. When Geralt reached the center of the room he pushed his aura out again this time relaying eminent danger. Anna quickly turned her eyes wide, and screamed. 

“Hello Anna.” Geralt purred the deep vibrations in his voice reverberating throughout the room. She stood stock still her terror freezing her to her seat.

“I have questions.” Geralt purred beginning to pace. “Many questions. Questions only you can answer, and you will answer them wont you.”

She finally got ahold of herself and sat up defiantly. 

“Geralt of Rivia.” She sneered. “Stop your petty illusions.”

Geralt approached her slowly his aura whipping around him like a storm.

“This is no illusion.” Geralt said chuckling and sending ice through the room. “You see, we Witchers have a reputation. A simple singular reputation, one that you should have heeded before inviting me into your halls with open arms.”

Anna stood up and approached him defiance in her eyes her small hands balled into fists. 

“I will not answer to the likes of you, you mutated monster. You murderer.” Anna sneered. She was stopped instantly in her tracks when Regis appeared behind her his hands tightly on her shoulders restraining her. His claws had extended and the sclera of his eyes had turned black with piercing Red Iris’s. Geralt felt himself stir at the sight, but he regained his focus and watched as Anna frozen in place looked to Regis true terror in her eyes.

“I know you.” Anna said visibly paling and swallowing. “Regis.”

“You once asked me if there were any other vampires you didn’t know about.” Regis purred his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “Well, I lied.” 

Geralt felt his amulet twitch minutely as Regis put up a barrier. 

“You are working for them?” Anna said her voice shaky and somewhat confused as she looked away from Regis and turned to Geralt.

Geralt stepped forward so he was less then a foot away from the duchess. She studied him for a moment then he grinned showing off his teeth. Geralt could smell the true terror instantly and took an exaggerated breath for effect.

“Would it make any difference if I was?” Geralt purred keeping his glowing yellow eyes trained on the duchesses.

“I… I don’t know.” Anna looked Genuinely confused and scared.

“First question, and answer honestly, Why, Why did you do what you did to your sister.” Geralt purred Regis tightened his grip on the duchess’s shoulders. He asked this for Regis’s sake. The question had been on the forefront of the vampires mind since before Geralt got let out of prison.

“Why would I tell you?!” The defiance was back again, Geralt ran a clawed finger along Anna’s jaw and down her neck causing her call out and flinch as a small trickle of blood followed her jugular vein. He could see Regis tense up but he remained stoic otherwise.

“Speak!” Geralt snarled the force of his aura overpowering her defiance. Blood began to drain from her face again and she began to shake. 

“She… she was a child of the black sun!” Anna stammered. “All they could do and think about was her, keeping her happy, trying to break the curse. No matter what I did I couldn’t seek their approval, everything I did the slightest bit wrong was punished and harshly, while she could get away with anything and everything. I was the one they needed to rule! Yet they focused on her!”

Geralt didn’t change his expression as she stammered. 

“I knew I had to get rid of her. She was ruining everything!” the Duchess stammered. “It started small. I killed Rats and left them in her room, spread their blood on the walls. I defecated in her bed while she was sleeping and smeared it on her, I needed her gone! She would pay for existing, for taking what was mine by rights. She began to have nightmares, and again they focused on her! They put me in her room, in HER ROOM. I threatened her, hit her, bit her. Told her that if she was ever to say word one about it or speak of the nightmares again I would kill her.”

“They still doted on her!” Anna Screamed her eyes wild. “They forced me to sleep there and they still doted on her! Then Uncle Vigo came and gifted her a book! He said it was for both of us, but what use would I have for a storybook kingdom! Syanna was the one that loved fairy tales! She would be in there all the time, having adventures, and I couldn’t stand it! At one point I thought if I could get her to hate the stories they would throw out the book! But Sayanna, she learned, she learned how to manipulate the magic inside the book. The characters began to come seek me out! They hurt me! Scratched me, burned me, did unspeakable things to me while she watched and laughed! I tried to tell them about it, but they wouldn’t believe me! Uncle Vigo said that there was no way the magic could be modified! He checked the illusion and he said everything was acting according to how he designed it! I refused to go back in.”

“While she was gallivanting in storyland, I met Adrian de Coulbert I loved him! She overheard me speaking to the governess about him!” Tears were steaming down her face as her words twisted in Rage. “She mocked me! Said that I was a whore and that I would spread my legs for anyone! She told my papa! Said that she had seen me touching him! He banned me from seeing him! Then, the bitch, she went further. Adrian would find me, no matter how many times people told him to stay away, he would find me! I loved him Geralt, like I have never loved anyone. She caught me one day, we were kissing. She called me a whore and said I would pay for what I had done.”

Geralt kept his face impassive though he was beginning to understand how absolutely horribly twisted these children had grown up.

“She found Adrian’s older brother, the heir to the de Coulbert estates and lands. She manipulated him! Told him she was an oneiromancer, she told him she had seen that his little brother was going to Kill him Geralt!” She sobbed with anger and rage. “She cast a spell on him! He was so afraid of loosing his title and lands that he killed him! She told him to take his fathers sword and chop him to bits! He did! My god Geralt he did!”

“I wanted to Kill her! I came after her! SHE NEEDED TO DIE.” Anna Howled her eyes wild, Regis kept his hands in place effectively preventing her from moving. “I knew what I had to do then! I attacked her! I bit her scratched her, and punched her. I beat her up so badly I thought I had won! But she… she fought back, and punched me hard enough that it ruined my face! I lost two teeth. I ran from her to my father and showed him. He flew into a rage and he beat her! The governess that cunt tried to blame me! Blame me for throwing the first punch! But they finally began to listen! I pretended to have sympathy for her, telling my father to stop, but I knew he wouldn’t.”

“That’s when it started, before she was even recovered he brought mages in.” The duchess voice sneered an insane grin appearing on her face. “He wouldn’t tell anyone what they said, but I snuck into his office and read the reports. They were all so afraid of her, the fact that she showed magical ability, the fact that she was a child of the black sun. They told him that she should be sent away or dispatched because nothing good would ever come of her! She was Evil… But then he didn’t even listen to them!!! HE LET HER LIVE.” 

“He would praise her for the stupidest things!” the Duchess raged. “Complimenting her on keeping her rooms cleaned, making her bed. Dancing around her to afraid to do anything about her! I knew I would have to do this alone. I began to pretend like I wanted to make amends, the stupid fool. She believed me. We started playing pranks. Killing animals, burning the hair of the ladies in waiting. Every time they would say that it was because of the black sun curse. They refused to send her away! Finally one day we heard that their was going to be a Nilfgaardian envoy. She had the idea to fill fish bladders with suet and try to hit him from the balcony!”

“I knew this was my chance.” The duchess laughed. “I stole some matches from one of the fire keepers, and when we had everything prepped on the balcony I doused them in oil. I lit one on fire. She tried to stop me, I punched her and she fell. I threw the bladder and it landed square on that ugly outsiders head! It popped the moment it hit him! Soon he was doused in flames! I kept them coming While she cried and begged me to stop. THIS IS BECAUSE OF YOU. I Screamed! I screamed it! Then while she was trying to stop me I put the matches in her dress pocket. When the guards caught us I told them it was her! I told them she was the one that made me do it. They refused to believe me!”

“She was dragged in front of papa, the council was there, and uncle Vigo was there, as were several of the Magis.” She began to laugh again. Geralt was having difficulties holding himself back from striking her. Regis could sense his building Rage, the aura that was forced was now true. His eyes burned and a sneer made it’s way to his face.

“She pleaded and pleaded, it was so wonderful, I could have came from watching her beg.” The laughter continued high pitched and screaming. “I told them to check her pockets, that she had put the matches in there. And they did! And they were there! She cried! Said that I had put them there, they didn’t believe her! They finally believed me! I told them through teary eyes that she was a monster, that she hit me, bit me, and used her magic against me. I told them she made me watch while she touched herself and made me touch her. I told her she had fucked Cedric de Coulbert! It started a cascade!”

“More Knights came forward, saying that she had seduced them, that her maiden head was gone.” She laughed rubbing her hands together and shuddering with madness. “The more afraid of her they were, the worse the crimes they said she committed! It was glorious! Papa finally had heard enough. He stripped her of her title and birthright! I finally won! But I wasn’t done, oh no I wasn’t.”

“They banished her.” She laughed her shoulders hunching forward. Regis’s claws were now digging into her and blood began to flow. Geralt could tell they were both swiftly reaching the moment of no return, but he held on, willing himself to stand still. “They got a group of the most noble and virtuous knights they could find! But knights? They aren’t as virtuous as you would imagine. I intercepted them, paid them all a large sum of money, enough for them to rise above their station. I ordered them to ruin her. I remember the looks of them, they hated her as much as I did, and there is nothing a man loves more then to rape that that is lesser then them. And they did. I made them tell me about it in all the gory details. Then when they dropped her in Caed Dhu and left her for dead and they came back, I paid them again with my body, promising them a high station when my father died. They took it and took me, and it was glorious, these virtuous knights nothing but rapists and base animals, lead by their cocks.”

“I did it, finally won!” It was Geralt who broke first. Regis saw what was coming and turned to mist. The force in which Geralt hit her send her sprawling on the floor, her eyes went glassy and she went into a seizure. Geralt stood over her watching as her body began to jerk in rhythmic spasms. Regis still had his wits about him and he quickly materialized and grabbed the duchess and turned her on her side. Vomit began flowing out of her mouth and she lost control of her bowels.

“Geralt, search the room.” Regis barked snapping Geralt out of his rage. Leaving the Duchess to Regis Geralt sniffed the air which was now filled with the scent of urine, shit and Vomit, and began to trace that familyar smell he had caught when they first walked in.

“You could have killed her if you had hit her any harder.” Regis snapped his face stern as his eyes changed back and his claws receded. 

“I am not going to say I am sorry Regis.” Geralt snapped the undertone of his voice heated and sick as he traced the smell to a small box on a vanity with a mirror. “She deserves death and so much worse.”

“She does, but not by your hands.” Regis said calmness returning to his voice. “I already had one of my friends made a rash decision that they regretted, I don’t need another.”

The pain in Regis’s voice struck Geralt to his core as he began to calm his rage. Opening the box he found what he was looking for. A small vial, almost black in color. He walked over to Regis as Regis flipped the duchess onto her back and administered a potion of his own make to help bring the duchess back under control and stop her seizure. Geralt could smell cannabis oil as well as black cohosh, Basil, and chamomile. 

Geralt showed him the vial and Regis winced.

“She is still getting her supply.” Geralt said as Regis took the vial. Regis popped the cork and gave it a hard sniff. He gagged surprising Geralt.

“This is different then the last batch.” Regis said closing the and covering his face with his hand. “The ingredients’ are cheep. Dried mandrake instead of fresh, and in some cases they have been omitted or replaced with other more readily available herbs. The child this is made from is older… and Meletele! Geralt!”

Regis’s expression morphed into horror as he held the Duchess’s head. 

“What Regis?” Geralt could feel his gut sinking.

“Geralt… she has the Catriona plague.” Geralt had never seen Regis’s eyes so wide.

Geralt quickly bent down and ripped the dress and bustle from the duchess exposing her torso. Regis quickly put his fingers in the dutchess’s armpits and groaned. 

“She has it Geralt!” Regis hissed. 

Geralt pulled the dress off of the duchess completely and stripped her of her hose. The stool that soiled her was runny and red with blood, Geralt ripped it the rest of the hose all the way off and tore off her shoes. He instantly felt himself fall out of his enhanced form normalcy returning to his eyes and face. He collapsed at her feet, her feet which were black and swollen with gangrene. 

“Why can’t I smell it.” Geralt said his eyes wide and his posture defeated. “I should be able to smell it.”

“Geralt, this potion is meant to keep the body in a constant state of healing. It has masked the plague completely, changed it.” Regis said massaging the duchess’s head as she groaned and began to come to. 

“They were trying to kill everyone. They were trying to start an epidemic.” Geralt said his hands flexing into fists as a keen panic began to lace it’s way through his being. “Yen was exposed! Ciri!, oh gods Ciri is on a contract! The Nilfgaardians!”

“Quickly Geralt we need to get the palace and all members who have been in contact with the palace staff in quarantine.” Regis said his voice shaking. 

“Wait… there is a cure. A real honest to gods cure.” Geralt said standing and pacing. “Keira! Keira Metz! She designed a cure! A cure and an inoculation! I… I have to go Regis. I will be back, We have to finish this, we have to find the supplier.”

Regis nodded solemnly. 

Without a moment’s hesitation Geralt launched himself forward and rummaged in Regis’s bag. He found what he was looking for and poured the strong moonshine he always kept with him on his hands, and stripped his shirt and his pants and shoes off but not before taking the key out of his pocket. 

“Burn them Regis, burn them the second you have a chance.” Geralt said as he launched himself down the stairs. He quickly got the door open with the Key, shut it and flew down the tower. 

When he burst through the door where the guard stood he could see that he was sweating. 

“We need to go now!” Geralt said pulling the man bodily along with him. 

“Wh…whats going on? Where are your clothes?!” The man said 

“The duchess has been infected with the Catriona plague, we need to lock down the whole of Toussaint. I know of someone with a cure, but everyone in the palace, all the people at the ball last night, the envoys and ambassadors have been exposed. The whole of Beauclair has been exposed!” 

Geralt did not like the panic he was feeling. He felt extremely helpless, the armored man behind him was so slow and Geralt was pulling him bodily along. When the man doubled over and Vomited the red viscous fluid that flowed from his mouth, he knew it was starting. He left the man where he was and sprinted down the hallways and stairs running people over that were in his way.

He blasted his way into Damian Del La tours office bowling over the guards that stood at the door. Panting and panicked he saw Yennefer laying on the couch groaning.

“Geralt! What on earth is the matter?” Yennefer asked the sweat sheening on her forehead. “Where are your clothes?!?” 

“What is the meaning of this?!” Damian said and several other advisers stood up.

“The Duchess has been infected with the Catriona plague.” Geralt said through panting breaths. “ Everyone who has been in contact with her, and by proxy anyone who has had contact with them are infected. We need to lock down Toussaint RIGHT NOW.”

“What?!” Damian yelled standing up and slamming his desk.

“Yennefer, you are sick as well, it wasn’t a hangover.” Geralt said rushing to the women’s side and forcing her to stand on unsteady feet.

“We need to summon Keira Metz.” Geralt said balancing Yennefer’s small form with his arm..

“How do you know? How can you not smell it? You are a witcher are you not?” Damian said coming around the desk and helping Geralt steady Yennefer. 

“Someone has weaponized it.” Geralt said through clenched teeth as Yennefer looked up to him with fear in her eyes . “It’s undetectable by smell, I am sure we can train a good blood hound to smell it out, but Regis couldn’t smell it on the Duchess, and neither could I, though he did scent it in the Tincture of blood we found in her cosmetics case. It was fresh, not more then 2 weeks old. We stripped her, her feet are rotten and black, her lymph nodes are swollen. The Guard you gave me I had to leave behind he was vomiting blood. I know what this is I have seen it a million times. Someone has been smuggling the blood in.”

“Let me go you oafs!” Yennefer snarled.

Geralt’s amulet vibrated so hard it hurt, and Yennefer opened a porthole. 

“She through there?” Geralt asked. 

“Yes, go.” Yennefer said blood trickling out of her nose.

Geralt jumped through the porthole all discomfort aside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND HEREEEEEEE WE GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


	9. medicament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lambert reminisces about his and Keira's relationship, and Geralt gathers the players.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual no beta so if you find mistakes lemme know. More plot building!

Lambert groaned as he watched the women above him pulse with the pure sexual energy she always exuded. He ran his hands up her stomach to her breasts and pinched the nipples hard to watch her yelp as she road him. She didn’t disappoint, and then her magic flowed over him the pleasure he normally felt from the act increased a hundred fold, it was painful, and he loved every minute of it.

They had started simply as a “We are likely to die tomorrow” Fling. One last fuck before the world ended. After they had road out their nervous passions with one another, Lambert had held her while she wept. She confessed everything that she had done that lead her to where she was, and Lambert in turn told her about Aiden in a way he couldn’t force himself to tell his witcher brothers. Both of them decided that it wasn’t fair and that the world could go fuck itself. But they may as well fuck each other in the process. 

After the battle of the wild hunt, Lambert stole into Geralt’s bags as he slept, and stole the plans that Geralt had taken from Keira back. He wouldn’t miss them. They had sat in a folded ball with ogrid oil that had dripped all over them from a bottle that had obviously not been corked well enough, the lazy ass. They were still good though, he could read them though the science behind them was a bit to much. He knew how to brew potions so he didn’t die from them, and kill things. Those were the only things he was good at as far as he was concerned, and those were the only things that mattered. The rest of him was a jumbled mess, but fuck anyone who butted their nose into his business.

When he brought her the plans back her eyes lit up like a yule tree. What he didn’t expect form her was…

“Come with me.” She said, in that breathless way that now drove Lambert wild with need.  
“Fuck if I have anything better to do.” Lambert shrugged. Internally he was screaming at himself. 

He kept waiting for the shoe to drop. For the sorceress to tire of him, for her to leave and seek the attentions of another man. But every time he came back to her after taking a contract it would be the same. She was untouched and wet for him. Only him. He didn’t question it, didn’t ask about it, he just took her and worshiped her as the goddess she was.

What was just one night, turned into a week, then it turned into a month, and now, it had been over four years. Lambert couldn’t believe his luck. He had been Jealous of Geralt’s Relationship with Yennefer, and Eskel’s relationship with Triss (Who Geralt then stole).

She kept the house in Midcopse after Nilfgaard had taken over, and Lambert and her would visit there often. Despite the fact that she “Despised living in the country” She had secretly fallen in love with the place, and the small village where she worked as a “Witch”. It was also close enough to Oxenfurt to allow her to work with Shani on her plague cure. Velen and the surrounding areas where chock full of monsters since the conjunction. An uptick Lambert hadn’t expected, but it meant his skills were needed. And Lambert liked having money. 

They also had a very opulent apartment in Oxenfurt. With Radovid dead, and Roche now the “Duke” Of Temeria and Redania, the killing of non-humans and mages had stopped, so Kiera could go about her business, and Lambert wasn’t spit at nearly as much.

He remembered coming back to the apartment after a particularly hard contract involving a nest of drowners, only to see her beaming like she had been given the sun. She told him “We did it! We have the cure!”

He also remembered his absolute confusion at seeing the exact same mushrooms and fungi that he had been fed as a boy at Kaer Morhen laying on the table in the kitchen.

“Dinner is served?” He quipped looking at the mushrooms with a strange sense of Déjà vu.

“No silly, if you ate them you would get sick.” She said picking them up and examining them with a smile. He clamped his mouth shut.

“We have isolated an antibiotic from these mushrooms, if people get sick with the catriona plague we can cure them! As an added benefit they have an antibody it in for a myriad of other things as well.” Her excitement was infectious, but Lambert had a reputation to uphold.

“Yay!” he said the sarcasm dripping. She had shot him a look, but her sly smile interrupted it as he rushed over and kissed her hard.

“I knew you would understand.” She said kissing him back. 

Under the direction of Roche the plague cure was kept hush hush, and when Keira and Shani had finally come up with a vaccination, they began to administer it in quiet to the populace of Oxenfurt under Roche’s orders. The effect was immediate. Other then a few reactions here and there to people who were allergic to the effects of magic, the cure and inoculation had worked. New plague cases in Oxenfurt stopped dead in their tracks with the only new ones being from refugees still trying to find a place, or newcomers.

Roche had wanted to take it one step further, he was inoculated against the disease, and then began traveling to the places that had been hardest hit by the plague to help take care of the populace that was sick and dying. The move added political clout to Roche as he talked the talk and walked the walk. Lambert however was just happy that there would be less bodies to attract necrophages. 

That brought him back to where he was now, under the finest women in the world. She had cast a spell on him that prevented him from cumming. He had been held at the edge now while she came over and over. It was getting to be to much. Her slick heat clenching him in rhythmic spasms. He was thrashing, scratching at her hips and feeling every inch of her with his sword callused hands. She was watching him, her hazel eyes intense, making him want to look away but he couldn’t. His eyes were blown wide and his heart was beating hard enough it felt like it was going to burst through his chest. 

“Melitele Keira, please!” He said finally finding purchase on her hips and forcing her down on him to the hilt. 

“mmmmm say it again” She said leaning down and biting on his lip causing him to groan and thrust.

“Keira……” He closed his eyes. “Keira… please… my goddess.”

He felt her clench and spasm before she called out his name. His name! The thought that it was her calling for him, needing him caused a fickle fragile joy to weave it’s way through his heart. It always did. Her spell released, and with a roar he slammed her onto his cock, the joy, the pain, the need, and the love lancing through him and creating a momentary point in time where his vision went white and his body refused to obey. He sat up on his own wrapping his arms around the slight women and burring his face in her neck as he road out his orgasm. Her panting breaths tickling his ear as she stroked his neck.

“Gods I love you Keira…” He whispered into her neck.

“And I you, my Lamb.” She whispered back her hand running lazy circles around his hair and neck. Lambert felt his arms tighten around her. He always got like this after they fucked, the need to protect her and hold her against him was an instinct. 

“Come now.” She said her voice soft and satiated. “Lets get a bath.”

Lambert moved with reluctance, hissing as his sensitive cock popped free from it’s warm wet prison. Keira looked at him her face triumphant. Lambert groaned.

Keira stood up and walked to the skull near her workstation in the house, and opened the porthole to the bath chamber. Lambert lingered in the cottage for a moment to grab a hand full of cherry tomatoes a few apples. When he finally stepped through the animals were waiting for him. He quickly distributed the food to the deer and rabbits that Keira kept here. He always made sure he had a treat for them when he visited. Lambert looked up to the steps where Keira had paused to watch. She smiled, Lambert hissed. 

That being done Lambert trundled up the stairs behind her. Kiera made sure the bath was hot for them while lambert went over to a basket at the edge of the bath and sat down. He was in the middle of picking through the various soaps to find one he liked when Kiera jumped in. Kiera washing her hair when the air ripped open wide and a white haired panting Witcher launched his way through the pothole his breath coming in ragged gasps. 

“Geralt!” Keira called.

“What the fuck Geralt!” Lambert stood a sinking feeling hitting him right in the gut.

 

Geralt felt the odd pull as he passed through the magic porthole. His breath was ragged, and he was dizzy, but there was no time for him to feel unpleasant.

On the other side of the porthole Kiera Metz sat in a bath her hair full of soap and her hazel eyes wide. Lambert was sitting beside the tub and he was also stripped of clothing.

“Geralt!” Keira called her voice filled with Genuine joy.

“What the fuck Geralt!” Lambert said standing up and looking at Geralt who was still panting and now suffering from the effects of going through the porthole. “What the fuck is wrong you asshole, this is our private place!”

“Keira, get out now.” Geralt demanded walking over and putting a hand on Lambert’s shoulder to calm the hot headed and naked witcher. 

“Why the fuck does she have to!” Lambert was absolutely indignant as Kiera quickly rinsed her hair and got out of the tub. 

“Why the fuck aren’t you wearing any clothes, and why are you breathing like you just took down a dragon single handed.” Concern had edged it’s way into Lamberts voice. 

“The Duchess of Toussaint has been infected with the Catriona plague. Someone weaponized it” Geralt said still panting, adrenaline pulsing through his system. “It’s an epidemic, Yen is infected, there was a ball last night, everyone that was there was exposed including Ciri. Kiera made the formula for the cure. I know she did. She also made a vaccine.”

Lambert stared at Geralt wide eyed.

“Call them.” Geralt said locking eyes with Lambert and finally beginning to catch his breath.

Lambert looked back to Kiera and hesitated. Kiera was already magicing her clothes back on.

“Geralt are you sure?” Kiera said her voice small and shaky. “I mean we are already producing the vaccine and the medicine… Are you sure it’s the Catriona plague?”

“I have never been so sure of anything in my life.” Geralt said looking at the Hazel eyed women then back to Lambert. “Call them.”

“Geralt… we… I mean.. the rules…” Lamberts hesitation flipped Geralt over the edge. 

“God damn it lambert CALL them. Get them To Toussaint, all of them. You know how! I can’t I used up all my magic and my stamina is tottering on the edge of running out. The witchers are the only ones immune to the disease naturally.” Geralt said the pleading in his voice. Tell Ciri to get to me. Anyone you can’t reach she will be able to. She has Vesemir’s amulet, she has the source.”

Kiera looked between the men her brows furrowing in confusion and curiosity.

“Ok fine sheesh!” Lambert said touching the wolf’s head on his chest. “Kiera, I love ya babe, but you breath a word of this to anyone…”

“What are you doing?” Kiera said looking from Lambert to Geralt. “What is he doing Geralt speak to me!”

“Kiera you need to come with me and get me a porthole to Oxenfurt, I need to get Shani, she is an expert on the Catriona plague and we a will need her and her fellow staff to help treat everyone.” Geralt said as Lambert shut his eyes and a powerful magic pulse rocketed from Geralt’s amulet. Keira felt it just as much as he did. Lambert’s wolf’s head began to glow and pulse red. Geralt’s followed suite amplifying the message. 

“Attention all schools. There is an emergency. Recall all to Toussaint immediately, this is not an accident, or a drill. Relay to all you know.” Lambert said steadily, a slight delay and his voice Echoed through Geralt’s head “Catriona plague is culprit, if you know anyone who has experience dealing with the plague, or can help us manufacture the cure and medicine, bring them too. This message will repeat for 24 hours.”

Lambert pulled his hand away from the amulet and weaved. The amount of power it took to use the amulet in such a way was draining. 

“Geralt, what is that.” Keira said quickly magicing Lambert’s armor on.

“That, is the reason mages have been told to fear us.” Geralt said as Keira opened the porthole to Oxenfurt.

“Well, we don’t have all day.” Lambert said finally getting back to feeling normal again. “Lets Get Shani and her Doctors.”

“No, I have a better plan.” Kiera said smirking

The three stepped through the porthole, and Geralt winced.

“Geralt? Kiera?” Geralt looked down and blinked.

They were in a bath house. A very specific bathhouse. One Geralt recognized as being Dikstra’s bathhouse. When he looked down at the man in the water he didn’t recognize him. He was scared from head to foot. His skin was tan, he had piercing and intense honey brown eyes. His hair was short and black with speckles of gray intermixed. A military haircut one that was currently plastered to his head.

“Vatt'ghern….” Geralt’s head whipped to the other occupant of the tub, all he needed for recognition were the tattoos, but the fact that the elf sat there without his typical eye patch, with his dark brown hair wet and longer then he remembered it started Geralt. The context finally clicked and Geralt made a curt nod to the Elf and then to the man.

“ Iorweth, Roche.”

“Vernon, We are going to be in need of your assistance urgently.” Keira started in not loosing a beat. “Geralt?”

The urgency of the situation came back, Geralt ignored the questions burning at the forefront of his mind, and quickly stuffed them away.

“Someone has weaponized the Catriona Plague, It’s undetectable by witchers scent, it’s being passed by contact, and by air. and the Duchess of Toussaint was infected. She is patient Zero. Yennefer is infected, Ciri is likely infected along with the whole of the palace staff. The Nilfgaardian envoy arrived yesterday, and there was a ball. Everyone there has been exposed.”

Roche shot up out of the bath like a rocket grabbing his towel and wrapping it around his waist.

“Keira, we need to mobilize the Oxenfurt medical corps.” He said sternly.

“There is one more thing. And this can’t leave us here.” Geralt nodded to Kiera and she quickly put up a bubble. 

“There is a conspiracy, and I have been hired by the Duchy to figure it out. What is happening right now is linked. There is a vampire, a Bruxa named Orianna, I am hunting her, She had a great amount of power in the duchy. She created the cosmetic, or had the cosmetic created for her, that the Duchess used. One of the primary ingredients was blood, specifically blood from children. We had found vials of the blood before this, but each one was clean. This is the first Vial of blood we have found that has the plague, but it is roughly about 2 weeks old. I am not a doctor, but this thing has an incubation period of roughly a week to two weeks.”

Geralt watched as the whole party of people blinked at him. Lambert spoke up next.

“That means that some other idiot who could potentially be her customer could also be infected.” Lambert said. “Good thing you guys put that shot to good use! Oxenfurt would be a ghost town with all the rich hoi polloi trying to get makeup like that.”

“I need to get back, immediately.” Geralt said and felt his hands balling into fists. “The duchess is in the final stages, and I need to question her before she expires, otherwise all this is for nothing.”

“Here Geralt, I can handle it from here.” Keira said magicing a leather case into being. Geralt looked at it as it was handed off. He heard the sound of tinkling glass. “That is several syringes of the cures. One shot is all that’s needed. It will take a few days for the symptoms to abate completely, but the shot should take effect within the hour. It can’t heal physical damage so if anyone has suffered from the side effects of tissue loss, or internal damage it may be irreversible without a healer. The other thing is you need to give it to them in the biggest muscle group they have, which is the butt. Do so on the far side towards the hips so you don’t accidentally hit the sciatic nerve.”

Geralt winced as his amulet pulsed and Lambert’s message began playing in his head again. 

“Thank you Keira, can you send me back?” Geralt asked as he internally winced.

“Yes, to where?” Keira said dropping the bubble. 

“To the palace in Toussaint.”

The porthole ripped open and without a second glance back Geralt stepped through.


	10. Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt returns to the castle where chaos currently reigns and confessions take place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys, big warnings here....
> 
> Specifically talk of suicide, and talk of follow through of suicide by a major character (Geralt), Death of Major character (Geralt as he dies in the books), talk of depression, sadness, woe and all that sort of stuff. Lots of hurt, lots of comfort... yeah the burn has begun!
> 
> Brief descriptions of what the plague does to the body
> 
> As always no beta! So if you see something say something!

When Geralt got back he was teleported to the castle in the middle of the throne room. It took him a minute to settle his stomach as the porthole had made him feel rather ill this time around. Stumbling forward on damp feet, he made his way through the halls where soldiers were gathering the staff and informing them of what was happening. Geralt knew it would take a bit for the whole of the medical corps and witchers to arrive. 

The sun had fully set now but the palace for all it’s airy grace was in the heat of late summer. Windows had been thrown open to keep the air moving, but it was hot, and humid still outside. Already Geralt could smell fires burning, likely in the yards and gardens of the palace, as infected, or potentially infected material was tossed in. The smell of burning refuse was not one that Geralt had ever associated with the palace, and his sensitive nose was giving him issues as he made his way through the halls. 

When he finally arrived back to Del La Tours office there was a huge crowd of people outside. People were yelling and demanding answers. The guards were keeping them at bay. Geralt slid between people and made it to the front. He recognized the sick guard from earlier helping the others. As soon as he made eye contact with the man he let him through and Geralt quickly opened and shut the door.

“How did it go?” Yennefer asked. She was leaned over a bucket with a page standing beside her at the ready. Geralt could already smell the sick and the sticky sweet smell of blood.

“Well, I have good news, great news, better news…. And bad news. Do you have enough energy to get me some clothes? I ran out of here without thinking. They don’t need to last long, just long enough to get me home.” Geralt asked looking down at his underpants.

Yennefer shot him a look of ire and raised her hands. Geralt hissed as the tell tale pinch of a vested laced Nilfgaardian doublet made itself known on it’s form. 

“Geralt we are in need of good news, so start with that.” Damian said wiping at his brow with a kerchief.

“Good news is, there is a usable cure.” Geralt said approaching the desk and unrolling the small leather carrying case. “Great news, it has been tested on a whole populace of people with no ill effects and complete reversal, The only people that have had issues are folks with Magic allergies like Triss. Better news, I have an army of people from said populace on their way to help. As well I have called the witchers here.”

“Called the Witchers here?” Yennefer narrowed her eyes and bit her lip pointedly looking at his amulet.

Geralt eyed her, and her sudden surprise and glance away cut him to the core.

“What do you know.” Geralt said his voice becoming cold.

“We are not doing this right now Geralt.” Yennefer said pointedly attempting to control a gag. “Later when it’s settled. I have known enough for long enough that would I have been a threat it would have long ago been carried out.”

“Lovers quarrels for another day.” Morvran Voorhis, said stepping forward. Geralt balked at the man he hadn’t seen him when he walked in. “Now Geralt, since the other two seemed to have glossed over it, what is the bad news.”

“The bad news is, Anyone who is infected has to get this shot.” Geralt said lifting one of the small syringes. “In the butt.”

The silence was stark enough that they could hear the cacophony outside clearly. Geralt hadn’t looked away from Morvan. When the young man finally sputtered indignantly Geralt could feel a grin starting on his face. 

“This is Hardly the time for jokes!” Geralt’s grin got wider. Yennefer groaned from her seat.

“He is serious, you see that? That face? That smile?” Yennefer said frowning for all she was worth to hide a smile of her own. “That’s when you know Geralt is serious.”

“I Don’t really have to do it in the butt per say… more just like the meaty part by the side.” Geralt moving with the small needle to Yennefer. “I would have thought that you would have been inoculated by now.”

“The tests were still ongoing.” Yennefer said pulling herself to standing and un-belting her pants and loosening her corset. There was a general sudden hesitation throughout the room of men attempting to look and look away at the same time. Yennefer cursed. “Look you idiots, gather around. You are going to need to know how to do this. Not only will you need to know for your own sake, but think of how the common rabble will see you if you float amongst them with the cure and offer to help them yourselves. Doctors are coming, but members of the aristocracy helping the commoners will leave a long lasting impression, one that Emhyr I am sure would love to take advantage of. Since he is not here, I am acting in his stead. So look, watch, and when more arrives, help. That’s an order.”

The movement around the room was sudden and furious as everyone gathered behind Geralt to watch him. Once Yennefer got situated he had her lean forward slightly and he shifted her pants so the top part of her hip and muscle were exposed. 

“Give me some strong alcohol on a rag.” Geralt ordered. The speed at which one appeared caused him to smile. With quick hands he cleaned the area with the rough rag, and poked the needle in. Yennefer winced slightly but otherwise didn’t move. Geralt injected the fluid and Yennefer hissed, then cursed.

“Meletele that has a kick.” She quickly sat down and rubbed at the spot where the injection was given. All eyes were on her as a shimmering blue glow crawled through her. When it reached her groin Yennefer suddenly laid back all the tension in her body leaving her boneless.

“Is it supposed to work that quick?” She said as the men around her began to murmur. 

“It’s a magical block. It will block the symptoms while the medicine works.” Geralt said remembering Keira’s words. “however it wont heal any damage, that’s up to your body, or if you have it your healer. Really Yen I am not keen on the specifics, I didn’t ask. When she gets here you can ask her all day.”

“Well I am not in need of it.” Morven said placing his hands behind his back. “I have been exposed to it numerous times on the field. I have no symptoms, and should I get them it wont be known for I only got here yesterday. Most of the Nilfgaardian envoy have sequestered themselves in their quarters for the time being to limit exposure, what shall we do if one has symptoms?”

“We have to wait for Keira.” Geralt said watching as Yennefer pulled herself up her skin color beginning to color back to her normal rosy pale.

“How did this happen Geralt, explain it to me.” Morven said his voice calm as Yennefer moved and grabbed one of the needles and looked to Damian. “Yennefer said you mentioned it had been weaponized. How?”

Geralt went quickly over all he knew up to that point. Pointedly leaving out the bit about the potion being a bastardization of the youth retaining Magic that the sorcerers used, as well as the vampire involvement. He noticed that Morven began to get pale.

“You do understand that it’s very likely that it has been used in other places as well.” Morven said his face getting drawn and his brows furrowing. “Yennefer, right now the facts are sparse, but it is my recommendation as Emyhr’s second that we send out word specifically to the youth seeking lady aristocrats of our nation to find out how wide this is spread. One has a feeling that Toussaint is just the tip of the iceberg. I do believe that this is a direct attack against our great empire, and they are doing so by attacking those who are of the highest rank first.”

Yennefer nodded in response her eye’s resolute.

“Geralt,” Geralt blinked at being addressed. “We are well aware of the nature of your contract as we had been informed this morning. We feel it wise how you worded things and I personally greatly appreciate your efforts to see this resolved. We would ask, under order of the empire, that you continue your work with all due haste, please let us know if you need anything from us, we will accommodate you.”

“That’s a fairly open ended deal.” Geralt said his eyebrows shooting upwards. 

“And one that we do not give lightly.” Morven said his lips quirking in a smile. 

Geralt gave a small bow to Morven who looked on in approval. Geralt quickly walked back to Damian’s desk and grabbed a syringe. 

“You gonna be ok?” Geralt said looking at Damian as the magic began to do it’s work. 

“Honestly, I think so yes.” Damian said his hand still rubbing the sore spot on his rear. “We need to figure out how to address the populace, and quickly, but that is not a job for you.”

“No no it’s not.” Geralt said wincing as he imagined himself yelling at everyone to stop being stupid. “However I will say this. Get the kitchen staff inoculated first. Everyone is going to need to be fed, and they are the LAST people we need falling ill.”

“Astute of you Geralt.” Morven said looking to Damian.

“I need to get back to Anna Henrietta.” Geralt said looking to Yennefer. “Notify me when Ciri arrives back.”

Yennefer nodded.

“Good Luck Geralt.”

Geralt exited the doors quickly and wove his way back out through the disgruntled crowd and back to the servants hallways.

 

Geralt wound up stopping a few places, and making the trek back up to the tower with a good meal, a brazier a pack of wood, and several large skiens of fresh drinking water as well as rags, towels, and a simple soft change of clothes for the Anna Henrietta so she would be easier to clean. He had been gone for a bit and hopped that Regis had survived and that Anna Henrietta didn’t force him to throw her out the window.

When he got to the bottom of the tower there were now several guards, mostly to keep stupid people from attempting the door. Guessing from the few bodies that littered the hallway, several had tried. Geralt fumbled with the key, he hadn’t let it go this whole time. When the pitch black of the stair enveloped him and the sound from outside died away he sighed. He felt his eyes relax in the darkness, and he allowed his other senses to lead him back up the narrow stairway to the Duchess’s room.

He opened the door and heard the steady heart beat of his friend, and the erratic weakening heartbeat of the Duchess. He sighed. He quickly climbed the stairs.

Regis looked up at him from a sitting chair pulled up beside the bed. He had a book in his hands from the Dutchess’s stockpile, and looked for all the world like a doctor sitting in vigil by a sick patents bedside.

“Glad to see you made it back.” Regis said standing and stretching his arms languidly. “And laden with gifts I see. I found a brazier in here, and there is a sockpile of wood behind the shelf. Alas I had nothing to light them with. I left my flint behind at the enclave along with some other items. Otherwise all of that pile would have been gone.”

Geralt looked at the stinking pile of soiled linen’s and clothes. 

“How is she Regis.” Geralt said looking to the duchess who was sweating profusely and a dribble of pink foam was coming from her mouth.

“Lets put it this way, You better have some good news, or we are not likely to get any information out of her.” Regis said leaning over and taking her pulse and shaking his head.

“All I have gotten from her are lunatics ravings, some rather telling.” Regis frowned. 

“I got the cure from Keira.” Geralt said setting all his items down then approaching the bed with the syringe in hand. “Already gave it to Yen and some others, It stops it in it’s tracks, though it takes more then a few days to heal fully. The Damage will stop.”

“But the Damage is already done Geralt.” Regis said pulling away the sheets and letting Geralt get a good look at her body. It was horrible, Geralt had seen it earlier, but now studying it with scrutiny he could see its effects closer. Big bulbous swellings had occurred in her armpits and groin. She had them on her neck as well, they had been hidden by her hair. They had begun to turn black like her feet had. And her hands were now showing signs of dieing as well. Geralt sighed.

“Well the plus is that the magic in this will mitigate the pain and force the body to think it’s fine for a time while the medicine works.” Geralt grumbled.

“But the truth of the matter is we may not have enough time before some part of her body just refuses to function with or without magical intervention.” Regis had taken the needle and walked over to the bedside. 

“I am assuming this is intermuscular?” Regis asked. 

Geralt nodded feeling a helpless knot in his stomach. Regis turned the Duchess on her side and injected her with the cure. The blue glow began to steal over her, going much slower then it had on Yennefer. Regis set her back down and covered her back up.

“And now we wait.” He said simply shrugging his shoulders.

“Well lets at least wait in comfort.” Geralt said walking over to the brazier and setting some wood in it. 

“There is a vent leaver over on that wall Geralt.” Regis said pointing near the shelf. “You may want to pull it before lighting this up, otherwise you two will die and I will be stuck here.”

Geralt grinned to himself as he quickly walked over and flicked the leaver. A blast of air whipped through the room removing the staleness that had sat in it. Geralt quickly cast Igni and the brazier lit up with a friendly flame. Regis had found a pair of fire tongs and began placing Geralt’s soiled clothing in the flames. A foul smell hit the air as the items began to burn, but quickly abated. 

Geralt moved to grab the pack of food he had brought up. Regis was now wrestling with the duchess’s dress and had settled for stuffing as much skirt in as he possibly could at one time without smothering the flames. Geralt smiled again watching as the Vampire quickly became frustrated with the dress and wound up rolling up his shirt sleeves and pushing it into the fire with his bare hands. Ash flitted this way and that throughout the room.

Geralt set up the food on the table. He had grabbed a good assortment of cheeses, fruits, fresh breads, a small cooked hen stuffed with peppers as well as two artichokes that were still warm from the fires and some butter.

“Geralt, could you come over here and handle…. that?” Regis said pointing to a pile of bloody refuse on the floor. “There is no way I am touching that, and we don’t have a way to clean it. And I can’t stand to look at it any longer.”

“I see even a vampire has his limits.” Geralt laughed as he walked over to the pile. 

He Focused his igni and aimed it at the floor. The floor was marble and other then a sooty streak that could me mopped up later it would be none the worse for wear. Geralt allowed the magic to flow and made quick work of what was left. He looked up when he felt Regis’s eyes on him. What he saw confused him, and the smell shift in the room confused him as well. When Regis saw he was caught he looked away.

“Copper for your thoughts?” Geralt said approaching the table.

Geralt sat down at the table and looked at Regis in the light of the fire. He was pensive, tense. Geralt could feel something radiating just outside of his consciousness as he looked at the vampire. Regis looked at Geralt again and this time there was no mistaking his expression. It was pain.

“Ok now you are scaring me. What’s wrong.” Geralt said the hairs on the back of his neck prickling up.

“I have lived a long life Geralt. And I have experienced a great many things.” Regis said his eyes somber as he looked over to the resting form of the duchess. “Some of them have been horrible, some of them joyous, some of them painful. I have kept myself in check for so long Geralt, that I almost feared that my feelings had dulled, that the world had gone gray. I had abandoned my vampirism as it were long before I met you. I feared it. When I met you, you put me into situations where I had to use my powers. To call them back. To remind myself that I was not human. Each time I did something new, showed something less human, you treated me the opposite of what I would have expected. You embraced me.”

Geralt looked up at his friend in confusion as the tell tale shaking of stress stole over the vampires body.

“I do not say this lightly. I need you to know this, and know that it comes from the very core of my being. I was, and I am willing to destroy myself utterly for you.” Regis said looking straight at Geralt’s eyes.

Geralt stood up and reached a hand over to Regis’s shoulder, placing it there he gripped it firmly. Geralt felt lost suddenly as Regis leaned into the touch.

“You will do no such thing.” Geralt said his voice thick as his mind tried to make sense of what was happening. “You have destroyed yourself once, and had yourself tortured twice for my sake. I couldn’t live with myself if I lost you again.”

The words from Lady Trastamara earlier that day hit Geralt like a chort. Geralt’s eyes widened and his chest tightened. Without thinking he bought his other arm up onto Regis’s shoulder to steady himself as a rip current of confused feelings ripped through his system. It was as if the dam holding all of his feelings that he promised himself to address later had broken. Looking at the vampire he suddenly felt the need to speak. He opened his mouth but the words got stuck and he looked over to Regis helplessly.

“Geralt?” Regis’s eyes confused and hazy caught Geralt’s own. For a second Geralt felt he couldn’t move, then almost without his permission the words began to leak out.

“I was prepared to die once.” Geralt said steadying himself trying to find the words that trickled out barely above a whisper. “I had lost everything. Everything I held dear. After Stygga. Ehmyr he had us, he came to us, myself, Yennefer, and Ciri. He took Ciri, and he told us that under no uncertain terms that we would either face execution, or we could die in each others arms. I was there Regis. I had lost everything. Getting Yennefer back hadn’t helped. Die in her arms. After everything she put me through, the lies, insisting on training Ciri and taking her away from me, only to loose her! I was done. Somewhere in the back of my head ‘you deserved this’ Ran around and around.”

“Emhyr, somehow got his conscience back. And Ciri came back to us.” Geralt said still steadying himself on Regis’s shoulders. “I felt numb. It felt like a dream, I played at being happy, joyus even. I went through the motions one would expect. But I was numb to my core, I didn’t and I still don’t understand why. I should have been overjoyed to get her back, but instead I felt blank. Then Ciri, the person I fought for, my daughter, told me she had to go. That she would forever be hunted, and couldn’t bare the thought of us being in danger. It killed me. I was shattered, and Yennefer knew it. I let her manipulate me in whatever way she saw fit.”

“We then traveled with Ciri for a while, That’s where I learned about her adventures, as we went through them one by one and buried those that she had left behind.” Geralt said. “I had to be there for her, watching her and she grieved for those who she had befriended, and sought revenge on those that wronged her. When she had finally buried her ills, Ballantine was upon us. I had started to feel better, and me and Yennefer sought one another as Ciri sought someone of her own at the fires. It was the last time I felt truly happy with Yen. After we had done so, the Lodge called Ciri and Yennefer to them. Yennefer said that she would go, and that Ciri would have to follow later. That small happyness I had found was broken into a million pierces. I kept trying to convince myself that I loved her, and agreed with her, she said that we couldn’t opposite that it was for Ciri’s own good. All I could do was agree and bow my head. After everything she made them go. She said I was to travel with Ciri for a time, and she would call her when she was needed. Ciri told me she wasn’t afraid.”

“I traveled with Ciri then, wanted to show her this place. The last place I had felt happy.” Geralt said despondently. “Of course the second we arrived, that whole illusion was ruined. Ciri and I had to rescue Dandelion from the gallows. The hollowness grew, the unfairness of it all. Eventually I had to let her go to Vengerburg to meet Yennefer. I traveled to Rivia. When I arrived they were not there and there was social unrest. Meve was nowhere to be seen, and her city was in shambles. I couldn’t stay at the inn I had originally wanted to, and actually ran into Yarpon and Zoltan. If it tells you anything, I tried to give Zoltan his sword back. I was done.”

“Their were riots then Regis. Big ones.” Geralt said his eyes hardening with memory. “They were persecuting the elves, dwarves, anything non-human and I just broke inside. Rage filled me, hate filled me. I went on a rampage. I Killed, I killed and killed and kept killing, anything to help me feel something, anything other then this big giant empty hole where my life used to be. I stopped counting at fifty people, though others had told me it was closer to a hundred. I don’t know who I killed. I just kept swinging my sword till I couldn’t any longer.”

“I let it consume me Regis. Fully. Completely.” Geralt felt his chest starting to burn and his eyes wrenching closed. “Then when I couldn’t raise my sword any more and the rioting had stopped, I turned to a man, a simple man, looked like a farmer who had been caught up in the fray. He had fear in his eyes. I stood up and put my hands out, and let that man give me what I wanted more then anything else at that moment. The pain was magnificent. Deeper and stronger then anything I had ever felt. He nicked my heart, I used my mutations to call my blood back to my torso and it flowed out in a river of crimson. I felt elated beyond explanation.”

Regis had shifted and had put his hand on Geralt’s cheek. His expression was so pained it caused Geralt to gasp and choke back a sob.

“What kind of twisted person feels excitement and euphoria at the thought of leaving this world behind.” Geralt hissed.

“I saw Yennefer then. She had seen the whole thing.” Geralt breathed. “She had seen what I did. She came over to me and tried to save me with magic. I fought her Regis. I fought to die, and in the process I took her with me. I didn’t see Ciri there, in the fray I had forgotten that I had traveled to Rivia to meet her again. She didn’t tell me she would be late. Ciri saw me take my own life, and saw me take Yennefer’s. She didn’t understand it. She had been through so much, and done so much, and still she didn’t understand the fact that her father wanted to die because he could no longer fathom life without her, without his friends.”

“Geralt…” Regis said bringing the Witcher's body into his. Geralt felt his arms move on their own as suddenly he enveloped Regis.

“She brought me back. Ciri did.” Geralt said his voice hardly a whisper unsaid rage and hurt burning through him like fire from a mountain. “She revived me, and revived Yennefer, and in some sort of misguided attempt at giving us a happy ending she placed us on a perfect island. One she herself created. Avalon. I don’t know how much time passed Regis, all I know is I spent day after day after day, going through the motions of living. Yennefer wanted to be happy, and politely ignored me and any and all protests I had against this life. I became her doll. I did as she told me to. It was purgatory. Gray. When the wild hunt found us and took Yennefer in hopes to woo Ciri back to them I wanted to fight, but had nothing to fight with. I wanted to fight with them for the same damned reason I fought in Rivia.”

“They told me to find them on the eve when the veil between worlds was at it’s thinnest at the place where men go to die.” Geralt said finding more courage for his words. “They then left me with a way out and back into our world. I found three Witchers who knew where I was going to be, and why I was going to be there. Letho, Auches, and Serrit. They gave me gear, and we tracked the hunt. They were experts in the hunt. Their school, one in which at Kaer Morhen we had no records for, was specifically formed from Witchers talented in magic who could track magical beings. The school was formed in Nilfgaard and was funded by the late emperor to have a way to combat the hunt when they arrived. When we tracked them to the Hang Man’s tree, and they were there with Yennefer I knew what I needed to do.”

“I knew that if I wanted to get Ciri back and keep her safe and keep her alive I would have to kill the hunt.” He could feel burning in his eyes as he spoke into Regis’s shoulder. “I did. And then I became what I most despised. I road with them Regis, that death wish haunting me at every turn. I killed indiscriminately. I became them, thrived, reviled in their deeds. Eridin stoked that fire in me Regis. I hated myself and hated everything so passionately that I let him take me. I gave my body to him every chance I could, and I became a tool. And somewhere deep down, I enjoyed it.”

He could feel Regis’s arms tighten around him as the vampire guided them to the floor..

“You know what stopped it?” Geralt asked his head still buried in the vampire’s shoulder. “I pushed it to far. They were tracking Ciri, and they had lost sight of her. We had almost had her, but our old friend Avallac’h betrayed Eriden, and took Ciri to a place the hunt could not follow. I raged. I was so beside myself with the fact that they hadn’t done enough to get her that I began to turn on my fellow red riders. Eriden launched me back to the continent, but not before stripping me of my memory to “Cool down”.”

“It worked.” Geralt whispered. “That dumb fucking elf did the one thing that no one else up till this point did. He reminded me I had friends, friends that were alive.”

“I landed back in Kaer Morhen and was saved by my wolf school brothers.” Geralt felt that burning feeling in his chest become agonizing. “In all of this I had forgotten them. Vesemir, Lambert, and Eskel. I had forgotten Triss too. As I wandered through life without memory I felt a warmness I hadn’t felt in who knows how long. Time didn’t pass the same way in Avalon as it does here, nor did it pass the same in Tir na Lia. I reconnected with everyone, forged new friendships, including one with an Elf who one day I would like you to meet. That hole in my soul I didn’t know I need to fill, was filled to the brim. And despite all of the happenings around me, I had friends, people I could depend on, and a purpose as a Witcher to slay monsters and travel the world.”

“When I retrieved my memories I was absolutely distraught.” Geralt said anger with himself rising to the surface. “But now I had what I was lacking, now I had control. I had support, I had a place to call home. Now I would get what drove me to ruin and this time I would lean on my friends to help. When Yennefer came back into my life, I distanced myself from her. I loved her like a sister you love to hate. Her decisions were made in Ciri’s best interests with poor results, and I had to force myself to forgive her for that. I would not however forgive her for the way she had treated me over the years.”

“You know the rest of the tale for the most part.” Geralt said finally feeling years of grief and anger come sliding off his shoulders. “I finally got Ciri back. Me, Geralt. I trained her, and we spent three years traveling together. She came back, she CHOSE me. Not Yennefer, not her father, but me. When she asked if she could travel off on her own I knew that I had done what I had set out to do in the first place. I trained a first class Witcher. My daughter, my beautiful strong smart, and talented daughter. I let her go.”

“It was the single most difficult thing I have ever had to do. Allowing her to take the path on her own. I was so proud, but I knew I couldn’t shelter her any longer and she needed to find herself on her own terms.”

“After I had let her go that hollowness that had always dogged me came back full force.” Geralt said leaning back from Regis’s Embrace and seeing that he had been shedding tears. “I felt empty again, listless. Not the same as when I lost Ciri the first time, but it was still keen. When I saw the contract calling for me specifically to come to Toussaint, I figured ‘Why the hell not’. While I traveled with the knights back to the duchy it felt like traveling down hill, like there was a natural stop.”

“When we started to follow the killer and I learned it was a vampire I figured ‘this is it, this is the contract that all witchers take that lead them to their death.’ When you appeared, it’s like that piece of my soul that had been missing was suddenly staring me in the face. The only thing is, I didn’t know it. I couldn’t put words to it. When I learned that it was another vampire that you knew and loved, I felt that little piece shatter, but not break. I wanted someone in this damned universe to be happy, and if saving your friend would make you happy, I could die contently.”

“We did, and you left.” Geralt said dropping his hands and sitting back on his knees, the air finally pushed out of him. “Only this time I had a whole gaggle of people I had to look after, and a hobby that I had found that I enjoyed. I put you from my mind, I wrote it off. I have been writing off what I have been feeling or what I have felt for years now. Hiding it behind the mantra of ‘Witchers don’t have feelings.’, or ‘I will handle this later when I am ready’. Only the joke was I was never ready”

Geralt looked back up to Regis hurt and confusion in his still stinging eyes. 

“You are back now, a grand total of two days, and this piece of me is screaming at me.” Geralt said hugging his arms to his chest. “It’s screaming at me in two voices. I don’t understand what it is saying. But what I do know is if you were to die again, I would too. There is no life for me after you Regis. I can feel it down to the core of my soul. Were I to loose you again, I would be lost.”

Geralt didn’t even register movement before he felt Regis’s forehead on his own. Confusion flooded his system and he froze. A wall broke and he felt the heat of tears on his eyes. He Choked a sob and leaned into Regis. When Regis closed his eyes and his breath washed over Geralt the scent of rainwater washed over him with enough force to make Geralt feel he was in the midst of a storm. He could have lost himself in that feeling forever. When they began to pull away Geralt groaned, then laughed.

“I thought witchers couldn’t cry.” Regis said chuckling and wiping at his eyes. 

“I can’t. I have only cried one other time, when I thought Ciri dead.” Geralt quickly wiped at his eyes as he was strung between collapsing into a useless heap and sobbing, and laughing. “I don’t know how, sometimes, there is this burning, this feeling in my chest. It’s like I can feel it, and I know what I want to do with it, but there is a connection that is severed.”

When he looked over at Regis the hope in the vampire’s eyes took Geralt’s shattered heart and made it feel whole again. 

“You have said it to me a few times, but I will say it to you now.” Regis leaned up and grabbed Geralt’s head and put their foreheads together again. “We are in this together.”

“COLLETTE, COLLETTE WHERE ARE YOU.” The sudden harpies voice of the Duchess ripped through the Witcher and the vampire causing them to bounce back from each other so quickly that Geralt knocked his head on the table where the food was and Regis hit the back of his head on the window. 

“Collette! I need you now! I have soiled myself and I need clean sheets.” The Duchess howled. “And Who lit the fire! It’s humid and Hot in here.”

Regis and Geralt Shared a look then laughed. 

 

“Who is that! Who is there?!” The Duchess screeched. “Show yourselves!”

Geralt was the first one upright followed by Regis. When the Duchess looked over at them her eyes wide she Snarled.

“YOU.”

Geralt looked at her with pity in his eyes. 

“Yes, we never left.” Geralt said feeling himself slipping back into his menacing form again.

“Now you will tell me where this vial came from.”

The Duchess’s eyes widened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys... this is one of those chapters that I have cried over while writing it! Holy crap! I am so glad it's up now! I wrote it several months ago, so yeah >_< LOVE YOU ALL
> 
> Comment and such! It gives me fuel to keep going!


	11. Good gaurd, bad gaurd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regis and Geralt Question Anna Henretta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY FUCKEN BIRTHDAY TO ME... MY GIFT TO YOU IS ANOTHER CHAPTER!
> 
> No beta... looken for one... if interested PM me!
> 
> if you see mistakes lemme know!

“First Geralt, we have another matter to attend to.” Regis said passing around Geralt . 

Geralt for his part kept his form, but eyed the vampire curiously. Regis pulled a table over to the bedside, and then came over and plucked the vial from Geralt’s hands.

“Anna we have much to discuss and I would rather explain it to you fully then have Geralt attempt to yell the information we need out of you.” Regis said causing Geralt to bristle. “At some point I, even with the magnificent amount of patience I have, would be unable to hold him back, and would actually revel in the aftermath of what he would likely do to you. So I am attempting to avoid that temptation all together.”

“You will call me by my title!” Anna Henrietta barked.

“I will do no such thing, as it does not exist anymore.” Regis said his calmness hiding and edge that Geralt could detect with ease now. “The Emperor has rescinded it, and if no one has told you, well, I am happy to be the first. I am not here to argue, just to get facts, and the sooner we get them, the sooner we will be out of your hair.”

Geralt walked over to one of the support walls between the windows and leaned up against it. He wasn’t above a little good guard bad guard routine. Anna Henrietta’s face had fallen and her hands were in her lap over the blankets. Regis was fussing with a few things from his satchel which Geralt was beginning to think was magic in and of itself from all the things he could fit in it. He set the blood and three more vials on the table, then he went over to where the food was and got a small handful. When Anna Henrietta saw the food her eyes became greedy. Geralt saw the opportunity to try and push the pack bond that was tentatively reforming and sent a powerful blast of hunger over what he hoped was the bond.

Regis stopped dead in his tracks and looked at Geralt in surprised confusion. Geralt quickly looked from Anna to the food in Regis’s hands and back again, and raised his eyebrows. The look of surprised realization that crossed Regis’s features was followed immediately by a smile. It happened in a matter of seconds and Regis quickly shuffled over to the bedside again and set down the food on the far end of the small table.

“Now. First thing is first.” Regis said settling himself into a chair and facing Anna Henrietta on the bed. “You are ill, and you know this. How many other people know or knew of your illness, tell me and you will get to choose one of these four things on the table. I recommend taking them in order otherwise you will suffer ill effects. The first, is an anti nausea drug which has a complicated name I shall not bore you with, which I can feel you still need. The second is a drug I have synthesized from a bovine, that will help your blood clot, as you are bleeding internally and have a very hearty infection going. The third thing you may have is the food, and the fourth thing is poppy’s milk as I am sure the pain in your legs and arms is excruciating.”

“Colette is the only one that knew I was sick.” Anna Henrietta said looking down into her hands. “She said it would pass and not to worry.”

Regis reached over popped the cork on the first vial, and gave it to Anna. She took it and shot the bitter medicine down.

“Very good, very good.” Regis said “You will begin to feel relaxed and somewhat drowsy, I ask that you resist the urge to fall asleep as there is much to discuss and I will have Geralt wake you.”

Geralt grinned letting his aura whip around him and Anna Henrietta visibly shuddered.

“The Second question, one of the more important ones, do you know what is in this vial?” Regis asked holding up the tincture of the blood based youth serum.

“Yes.” Anna Henrietta said turning her head away.

“Truly?” Regis said looking at the bottle in mock confusion.

“Do you want me to say it?” Anna Henrietta sneered. “Fine, it’s blood, children’s blood, and a concoction that my dear cousin Fringilla helped me come up with.”

Geralt felt himself stiffen. Regis however sat calmly, though now Geralt could feel an odd buzz through what he assumed was the bond of being uncomfortable.

“I see, did Fringilla help you make this batch?” Regis asked looking through the tincture.

“Goodness no, she stopped doing that years ago, around the time you two arrived in Toussaint the first time.” Anna said looking pointedly at the table. Regis took the hint and handed her the second bottle. She fumbled with it for a moment, before handing it back to Regis for him to uncork.

“She said she was going to sell it to a make-up manufacturer and wanted to let me test it first. She needed a hook beyond the normal ‘Will help you retain youth.’. We came up with the idea that we could use the blood of a child. What is more youthful then that?” Geralt could feel himself grimacing at the idea. 

“I see, it was obviously put into production.” Regis said pocketing the vial. “I am guessing you and Fringilla are close?”

“Very much so.” Anna Henrietta said. “We grew up together. She was raised by Uncle Vigo because of her magic, and we separated only once, for her to go to school. She came back in an official capacity after Uncle Vigo died.”

“How did he die?” Geralt asked. 

“It was an accident, and honest to gods unplanned accident.” Anna said remembering. “Myself and Fringilla were on the lake enjoying our time together. Uncle Vigo decided that he was going to amuse us by casting water illusions. We were charmed! He was drunk. At one point he got so into the magic he tripped and hit the back of his head on the boat. He slipped into the water before any of us could grab him. The water was murky that day due to rains, and apparently his robe got snagged on an old log at the bottom. It took two days for the water to clear enough to find him.”

Geralt winced.

“Back to what we were speaking of, before Geralt’s undying curiosity about the world interrupted us.” Regis said pointedly looking at Geralt. Geralt grinned.

“I know just by the fact that it exists currently, and the fact that you said Fringilla had stopped production on it, that Fringilla obviously has someone who is, or was doing the manufacturing for her.” Regis said causing Anna Henretta’s eyes to get wide. “We need to know who that is, and guessing from your reaction you know.”

“I get it from Collette, she brings it to me.” Anna said looking away and biting her lip. 

“Is that all?” Regis said reaching over for some of the food to hand Anna. She whipped around and reached for it. Regis pulled it away.

“You know more then you are letting on.” Regis said holding the food at bay.

“And you have no clue what your Kin’s man are up to.” Anna said venom in her words. 

Regis handed her some of the food which she ingested greedily all the while his eyes wide. 

“How do you mean?” Regis asked stiffening. 

“Your Kin’s man, your clan, whatever you Vampires address yourselves by.” Anna Henretta said through her mouthful of food. “You realize that no matter what I did as a Duchess it was always controlled by them right?”

Geralt’s eyes narrowed as he felt an uptick in Anna Henretta’s heartbeat. She was excited, truly excited about having this information. 

“We had an idea of that, but the extent of it really mattered little.” Regis said choosing his words carefully.

“Maybe it should have mattered to you more.” Anna said looking at him slyly.

“Be that as it may, we are not interested in the politicking of Vampires or humans.” Regis said shaking his head. “We are here for a very specific case. The case in front of us now. Last vile though, so you better answer to my satisfaction.”

“Who is this made by, and who do you get it from.” Regis said sternly.

“I told you Collette.” Anna said doubling down.

Regis sighed and Geralt stood up straight cracking his neck and knuckles. Anna tensed up and moved on the bed. Regis turned to Geralt. Geralt watched him change, his face becoming monstrous, and his black eyes flooding to black with a piercing red Iris. Geralt chuckled and grinned as Regis turned back to Anna and she began attempting to crawl her way back to the headboard of the bed. 

“Ah you see, that was not to my satisfaction.” Regis said his voice darker, deeper. “And I thought I made myself clear.”

“YOU FUCKING MONSTER.” Anna screamed throwing a pillow at Regis which he shredded to ribbons with his elongated claws. 

Geralt didn’t even see him move. Regis was straddled over Anna Henrietta and grabbing her face with his fingers. Geralt tenced up momentarily, and reached for swords that weren’t at his back. He cursed at himself but settled for shifting forward to see what was going to happen. Anna was struggling and attempting to buck Regis off. Regis only chuckled.

“Now now my Dear, none of that.” He said rolling his thick vampiric tongue over his lips. 

As Geralt watched the air began to get heavy. Very heavy. It was almost like a sound, a comforting buzzing that was weighted had shifted over the room. Geralt felt his eyes blast open to full and a pool of heat settle in his loins. His capularies opened again. 

Regis looked over to Geralt and Snarled. 

“Get control of yourself Witcher or you are of no use.” The words raced over Geralt like ice water as his head suddenly cleared. Regis had turned back to Anna who for all the world looked like a pliant doll. The weight was still there but Geralt pulled on his mutations to keep his mind clear. He realized what Regis was doing. 

“Now my dear, thank you for ceasing your struggling.” Regis purred his claws shortening back to elongated nails. 

“Oh you are most welcome, anything for you.” Anna Said he words stilted and heavy.

“Yes yes, that’s it.” Regis said stroking her cheek. Geralt felt the fire of Jealousy rear up till Regis gave him another pointed look.

“Now,” Regis said turning back to Anna. “I have questions, and you will answer them, it would please me beyond all recognition if you could do this one, small insignificant thing for me.”

“Yes, Regis, of course.” She said leaning into his touch her cheeks flushed, and her lips red. 

“Where do you get the cosmetic amplifier.” Regis purred trailing a hand down her shoulders.

Geralt was beside himself. He knew Regis was glamouring her, but he hadn’t ever seen this specific brand of Vampire magic up close. When Regis had started Geralt had been swept up in the spell, and he was now suffering the after effects. He shifted himself as discreetly as he could to keep Regis focused on Anna Henretta, but with the tight pants and laced doublet Yennifer had magicked him into he was rubbing him the wrong way and not helping matters.

“I got it from Collette, she has been bringing it to me since I was imprisoned.” Anna said swooning.

“Where does she get it from dear heart.” Regis said trailing his hand between Anna Henretta’s now exposed breasts. 

“Collette works for Orianna. She makes the trip to Dillengen every fortnight to procure more for me.” Anna said dazedly. “There is a safe house there, for them. An Orphanage that had been set up right before La Compassion was sacked. I helped pay for it, and in return I get the amplifier.”

“Who else does Orianna work with to create this.” Regis said pinching Anna’s nipple and eliciting a groan from the women. Regis nuzzled down into her neck and licked along her collarbone. Geralt was bitting his lips to try to keep control over himself. Right now Anna looked like a zombie, with the black welts all over her body, but watching Regis do this sent Geralt’s mind into an uproar of confused and lusty feelings about his friend. 

“Fringilla. Fringilla sold her the list to make it, but Orianna can’t create magic like the human’s can.” Anna said arching up into Regis’s touch. “When the lodge fell Fringilla sent an apprentice she had trained in secret to keep making the potion.”

“So Fringilla, or her apprentice is actively making the potion in Dillengen, under Oriana’s watchful gaze.” Regis said turning towards Geralt.

“Yes, they are all there.” Anna said lustfully.

“Thank the gods we are done with that.” Regis snapped his fingers and Anna fell back bonelessly.

Geralt blinked as Regis turned into his mist form and appeared beside him frowning but in his pure human form.

“Let it be known, that should anyone say I never have done anything for you, they can go take a long piss off a windy cliff.” Regis said wincing. 

“Remind me never to piss you off.” Geralt said again Readjusting himself. Now that the spell was over with he was calming back down to baseline. 

“If I have to remind you at this point in our lives, I have deeply failed at being your friend.” Regis’s nostrils were flaring as he pointedly looked away from Geralt. 

“Geralt, open your senses.” Regis said cocking his head to one side. “I do believe we may be able to kill one of our birds before we even pick up a stone.”

Geralt quickly opened up his witcher senses and could feel someone at the bottom of the tower. 

“Regis, black blood, now.” Geralt hissed. Regis dug into his pocket this time and had it at the ready.

“Figured we may need this and I didn’t want to loose it in my bag.” Regis whispered and watched as Geralt downed the potion.

Geralt felt rending pain as he always did when he downed this particular potion. It was like heartburn, but for the whole body. He waited for a minute and felt the poison settle in and his mutations pick it up. He crept for the door down the small stairway in the room listening as light footsteps made their way up the tower. Whoever it was, was humming to themselves, and Geralt could see torchlight bouncing under the cracks of the door and he willed his heart to pump slowly as to not make any noise. 

Regis had misted so he was hovering over the doorway itself. Geralt held his breath as a key latched in and the door opened. The humming form of a girl walked into the room, and headed up the stairs letting the door take care of itself. Geralt felt Regis misting around his ankles and he began to move and follow the girl as she made her way up. 

“Ah goodness me.” She said looking at the mess. “Looks to me like you are on your final legs. Pity that.”

“Collette?” Anna Henrietta’s voice called as she was roused from Regis’s spell “Collette, help me.”

“Seems as though those visitors from earlier have left you in a state.” The vampire sniffed the air. Regis’s Perfume was still thick enough in the room to mask himself and Geralt. “At least they left you food.”

“Collette, they know.” Anna Henrietta said trying to make herself sit up as Geralt came up the stairs silent as a cat. His lungs were beginning to burn and his limbs to cramp as he kept his heart and lungs on lockdown.

“They know what sweet Anna. That you are a tool?” Geralt’s eyes got wide as the girl began to remove her clothes. “That you have been a pawn in a very long game of chess in which we are winning? Did they even tell you what was in that vial.”

“No you twit.” Anna snarled. “I already know.”

“Not the blood Duchess, but the plague.” The bruxa, for that is what she was laughed, and disappeared circling around Anna Henrietta. The shrill high pitched laugh bruxa were known for filled the room deafening Geralt. He held his ground, taking a breath for the first time while the lesser vampire gloated. 

“YOU BITCH YOU KNEW.” Anna Henretta screamed attempting to stand on the bed and failing. “YOU DID THIS TO ME.”

The Bruxa reappeared sitting at Anna Henrietta’s side and stroked her face. 

“Oh yes, I did.” She purred. “I did this on the order of your dear cousin, and my Master. You have outlived your usefulness to us, and now the plague is spreading. It’s perfect and you played your part well pawn.”

“Get away from her.” Geralt called across the room. Regis appeared beside Anna Henrietta hissing, and the Bruxa disappeared and screamed bringing Geralt to his knees. Regis covered Anna Henretta’s ears and called to Geralt who was wincing and trying to get the ringing out.

He felt a sudden jerk backwards as his hair was grabbed and his neck was exposed. Searing pain lanced through him and he grabbed at the vampire’s head. He could feel her swallow several times before she pulled away and howled.

“W…WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME.” The Bruxa stumbled forward gagging. Geralt grabbed at his neck, the acidic blood burning the sensitive nerves of his hand. 

The Bruxa stumbled forward and retched. Black acidic blood splashed from her mouth to the floor as her skin began to dry, and darken. 

“Y…You won’t win… Witcher…” She said as Geralt stood up and kicked the Bruxa over onto her back. Regis appeared beside Geralt.

“Be…betrayer.” The Bruxa retched again seeing Regis. 

Geralt slammed his foot down on the Bruxa’s chest shattering through the now brittle tissue and stomping on her heart. She fell still.

The small sound of crying from Anna Henretta filled the otherwise silent room as Geralt watched the body of the lesser vampire start falling in on itself and shattering to dust. His neck was trobbing but the black blood had caused him to clot quickly so he wasn’t in any danger of bleeding out.

Regis shook his head and tutted as he watched the body of the bruxa. 

“Just think, Anna.” Regis said looking up at the sobbing former Ruler. “If you only had a heart and less vanity you could have avoided this whole mess. It is all your fault, to the letter, and the only person that can be blamed for all of this is you.”

Geralt winced and watched as the Former ruler fell in on herself and sobbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exploring being a witcher and being a vampire a little bit more :3
> 
> I want Regis's magic bag.
> 
> Though I am almost positive that he just wants to chuck it in a river on a daily basis.
> 
> If you like Comment! I thrive on comments!


	12. Incision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regis and Geralt arrive back at Corvo Bianco only to find Geralt's bruxa bite has gotten infected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains scenes of wound debridement, infection, infection draining, and stitching
> 
> Again no beta... if you see something say something!

It was dawn. The palace for all the hubbub the night before was relatively still. Geralt and Regis plodded wearily down the stairs from the tower after having gotten Anna Henrietta calmed down, sedated, and sleeping. Geralt’s neck hurt, badly. It had clotted up nicely, but any turn in any direction caused him to wince. The emotional toll on the two weighed heavily as their footfalls fell in silence. Regis had refused to give Geralt any other potions till the black blood ran it’s course, and considering how awful Geralt felt at the moment it probably was a wise idea.

They arrived at the kitchens, which were already awake, bustling and baking. The smell of fresh food was just intoxicating enough to keep both the witcher and the vampire on their feet. Both of them sat on the bench on one side of the long oak table that had been their place back during their first adventure. 

“You two look down right peeked, especially you wolf.” The lady cook said looking at both men. “And your clothes, they are all ruined and bloody.”

All Geralt could muster was a grunt.

Regis looked like he was going to say something for a moment before weariness closed his mouth and rested it on his hands closing his eyes. Geralt was side eyeing the vampire as Regis attempted in vein to keep his head from rolling off his hands as he drifted into and out of small bits of sleep. Using his powers had taken a lot out of the vampire. More then Regis had cared to admit. He was sorely out of practice, and the amount of concentration on his part to keep Anna under his spell was considerable, considering how strong minded the women was.

Geralt was drained, literally, figuratively, physically and emotionally. His mind was comfortably blank for the first time in ages. 

When the food was put in front of them, Geralt was surprised to find a Nordlings breakfast. Bacon, sausage, baked beans, tomato’s, mushrooms, and black pudding was the best sight Geralt had seen in ages. Geralt looked up as Regis nodded off again, and he elbowed the vampire to get him to wake up enough to eat. Regis quickly righted himself and began to shovel the food into his mouth with a gusto Geralt hadn’t seen in ages. Geralt followed suit and thanked the cook, as she laid down a plate of toast with blackberry jam and a jug of apple juice in front of the two men. 

“Oh you are quite welcome dears.” The women said pouring the applejuice into cups. “You have likely saved us from a fate that would have been worse then death, a little breakfast is a pittance to pay.”

Geralt drank deeply from the applejuice, the sugars racing through his body and fighting the vaguely nauseated feeling he had. Regis did the same and smacked his lips, his eyelids drooping. Geralt would have found this whole experience hilarious if he wasn’t so damned tired himself. 

Regis had practically licked the plate clean by the time Geralt had only finished half of his. With no ceremony what so ever the vampire pushed the plate away, crossed his arms, and laid his head down on the table. Within moments he was out cold. 

Geralt was thoughtfully chewing his food when he heard a set of tired footsteps approaching. He barely had the wherewithal to look up and acknowledge the presence that had made itself known. Morvran Voorhis, seated himself across the table from the sleeping Regis and Geralt. 

“You look as tired as I feel.” The man said his face drawn and full of stubble. 

“You could say that.” Geralt said chewing his food carefully as he regarded the man in front of him. “Got attacked by a bruxa last night in Anna Henrietta’s chambers.”

The pale blond haired man’s brows drew upwards regarding Geralt in horrified fascination. Geralt couldn’t bring himself to care about the look.

“Do you mind giving me your report on the former duchess?” Morvran said actively looking at the crude bandages soaked through with black looking dried blood on Geralt’s neck.

“I was requested to give them to Damian, and keep it between him and I.” Geralt said eyeing the man as he stuffed his mouth with some black pudding. The taste was absolutely delicious. The irony tang of the blood that had been cured seemed to melt on Geralt’s tongue causing him to close his eyes for a moment and just savor the flavor as it worked it’s way down his throat and to his stomach. Smiling slightly he opened his eyes and cut another piece.

“Ah yes, well he has taken his rest for the morning.” Morvran said as a plate of food much like Geralt’s as put in front of him. “Last night took a heavy toll on us. And this morning it is likely to get worse. Yennifer got ahold of Keira and they are mobilizing a medical unit from Oxenfurt that should be arriving some time this afternoon via portal. There have been two deaths that have been a result thus far. One from a laundress who was handling Anna Henrietta’s soiled effects. The second from a scribe who had been brought in for an interview. She spat on him. There is likely to be many more today, and double that number again for tomorrow. It is not looking well, but the fact that you caught it when you did and were able to think on your feet to begin to solve the problem was beyond commendable.”

Geralt grunted and resumed eating.

“Now, I will inform you of exactly why you have to report to me about this matter.” Morvran said digging into his own plate. “I am Emperor, Emhyr’s second. My Proper title is Crowned Prince Morvran Voorhis var Emreis, Morvudd yn Se'ege Raet Deien, . Though with you Morvran is fine.” (victory over Enemies to serve country)

Geralt had stopped chewing his food.

“Not many know this because it is in the Empires best interests to keep this under our hats. Though it is soon to come to light which is why I am speaking openly of it now.” Morvran said taking a quick drink of apple juice to wash down his food

“So your talk about marrying Ciri wasn’t just bluster and fluff of a young kid hoping for the best.” Geralt said narrowing his eyes at the man. 

“No it was not, and I will admit it is disappointing to me that she does not consent to marriage.” Morvran said a wistfulness creeping into his voice. “I may be Nilfgaardian to the core, but I am also a hopeless romantic, as you well know. I will not force a young lady into marriage just because it suits me.” 

Geralt gawked at the man for a moment before he got enough wits about him to ask a question. 

“How is it you are related to Emhyr, if you don’t mind me asking.” Geralt said finally polishing off his plate and grabbing some of the toast on the table.

“He is my uncle.” Morvran shrugged. “My father was fifth in the line of succession. When Cyprian Torres took over the Empire he systematically attempted to kill all of the Royal family. My grandfather, Emperor Fergus had always told us kids that having a big family would protect it in the long run, and I always had thought his words silly till he was killed. As it turns out, it’s easy to hide when there are so many of you, and my father kept us hidden through his connections with the merchants guild.”

“When Emhyr returned we stepped up to his side to support his claim financially.” Morvran said cocking his head as he regarded Geralt. “Thus he owes us a great bit. Unfortunately for him however, the only heir he has had has abdicated. Thus I am next in line.”

“Shouldn’t it be your father?” Geralt asked his eyes wide and curious.

“Technically yes, but being in a position of power did not suit him well as it went to his head nearly instantly.” Morvran said wincing. “I was a man grown. Emhyr had just returned to the throne less then two years previous, and already my father was plotting to remove the man with the help of the guild. He sewed a very epic plan together, very complex and very dependent on secrecy. I had just been given my first real post and I came home from the fronts full of patriotism to find my father plotting against the Empire. You can well imagine what happened. I turned him in and in the end my father was forced to remove himself from the line of succession for treason. I was put in his place. He still lives, but only because of the merchant guild. I have made sure that he can not interfere past that point.”

“Do you regret it?” Geralt asked sitting up and regarding the man with new eyes. 

“The only thing I regret is not taking the time to realize that by deposing my father, I put my head on the line next.” He sighed. “Lucky for me other then a few key people you are the only to know this.”

Geralt chuckled, his sleep lacking brain trying to commit it all to memory. 

“Now that we have that out of the way. Please give me your report.”

Geralt went over all that had happened with Anna Henrietta, leaving out only Regis and his brief talk, which he felt was private. At the end of it Geralt felt even more exhausted.

“You have proven yourself a thousand times over this night Witcher Geralt de Corvo Bianco.” Morvran said. 

“You will find a Carriage ready for you by the time you exit the door. I will have the palace staff grab the magnificent roach, who I saw in the stables early yesterday evening and escort her back to your estate.” Morvran said to Geralt.

Geralt nodded and grunted an affirmation and reached over to shake Regis back awake. 

“Come on old bat, we have to go home.” Geralt said smiling warmly as Regis stirred and regarded him.

“Home?” Regis said still sleep addled. 

“Yes to Corvo Bianco.” Geralt said helping the sleepy Vampire stand and supporting him as he wobbled. 

The smile that graced Regis’s face warmed Geralt to the core for a reason he could not pinpoint.

“Yes, Corvo Bianco… Home.” Regis said sleepily still smiling and leaning on Geralt as the slightly taller man lead him through the kitchens. 

The sun was bright now as it had dawned and the air held a crispness to it that it had lacked the day before. Geralt sniffed the air, Fall was coming. He smiled to himself as he approached a Royal carriage and lead Regis inside.

 

Geralt wasn’t sure exactly how he got into the house, but his first realization was that he was on the floor in his bedroom, and that his clothes were gone. He vaguely remembered that they were magic and that he told Yennifer that they could be temporary. He heard snoring from above him and knew that Regis was in his bed. Geralt knew immediately that he was stiff and sore, to the point of almost agony. He had slept on the side with the bite. 

As much as he loved his quicker healing times compared to most people. Sometimes he didn’t heal quick enough for his liking. His sleep on the floor hadn’t helped matters in the least. He rolled himself onto his back and hissed some of the pressure on his neck faded. He gingerly felt up to the bite. It was swollen and puffy Irritated and warm. Geralt could smell it now, it was infected. Not the first wound to get infected on him but one of the more annoying ones due to it’s location. 

He attempted to sit up without making noise, but the second he was fully upright his neck screamed at him and he yelled out and tipped over supporting himself on the frame of the bed while the throbbing subsided. The yell had woken Regis up and he sat bolt upright with a panicked look on his face. The vampire turned to him his eyes as wide as saucers and looked down at Geralt, naked on the floor with the bite on his neck. 

“Did I… did we?” Geralt could see the heat flooding to Regis’s face.

“NO Regis, Bruxa. Bruxa you dumb vampire.” Geralt hissed through his teeth, every time he moved his jaw his neck screamed at him. 

Regis’s mind finally caught up with him and he slumped a little putting a hand on his chest. Geralt would have laughed if he knew it wouldn’t have caused an agonizing jolt of pain. He settled for grinning slyly up at the vampire till he looked back down. When Regis glanced back to the witcher, Geralt raised an eyebrow and licked his lips. The effect was immediate and color flooded to Regis’s face and his palms found the comforter. The smell the wind before the rain got immediately stronger in the room along with an undercurrent Geralt was beginning to recognize. He outright grinned.

“I would break you right now and we both know it.” Regis said in what Geralt assumed was supposed to be a whisper to himself, but it had failed in the close quarters.

“Is that a promise?” Geralt said trying his best to look innocent when he said it. Regis’s hand flew to his mouth. 

Geralt did laugh this time, and it turned into a wincing Yelp. Regis immediately was off the bed and beside Geralt. A knock on the door didn’t deter Regis from helping Geralt onto the bed.

“Come in BB doors unlocked.” Geralt said through clenched teeth. 

“This is very infected Geralt.” Regis said as Geralt’s Major domo came through the door. 

“Ah I see I am not the only one to witness this.” Barnabus said placing the tray on the table. “It’s about time someone witness those nightmares. I was beginning to think I was the only one.”

“Nightmares?” Regis said curiously eyeing the items on the tray. 

“No nightmares.” Geralt said to BB. “Not this time, just a nasty bruxa bite and an infection. How long were we out.”

“You came stumbling through the door mid morning yesterday.” Barnabus said. “Told me you were to sleep till you woke, by the order of Morvran Vorhiss, who I am assuming is someone very important and very Nilfgaardian. He stopped by with a retinue to check on you in the afternoon, He informed us their was a plague, and that you and your friend had been exposed to it. He had doctors with him, and a mage.”

Geralt Grunted and hissed as Regis poked around the wound gingerly to look at the damage and the best way to go about cleaning it. 

“They requested that I gather all of the staff together so that they could be inoculated at your request so none would get sick.” Barnabus said dryly. “We did so, and now everyone in the vineyard is singing your praises. They again left with the instruction that you were to rest and recover before resuming your hunt. Do you want me to continue speaking or should we get you up to the outbuilding?”

Regis sat back from Geralt and Geralt shifted uncomfortably the weight on his bladder letting itself be known.

“Help me to it.” Geralt said as Regis stood and offered him a hand up. 

“Follow me Master Regis.” Barnabus said leading the vampire out the front door and around the side of the house.

“I am surprised there isn’t an internal closet.” Regis said helping Geralt steady himself as they approached the small building. 

“Yes well, the previous masters of this estate had little else then squandering their money in mind.” Barnabus groused. “Geralt is making an effort to both make an internal toilet as well as a Nilfgaardian style bathing chamber. Something this estate sorely needs.”

Regis let Geralt go to finish his business. Geralt for his part could actually stand though the way his neck muscles were pulling he felt like he was going to tip over at a moments notice. Not totally an invalid, but enough of one not to scoff at help.

When he got out of the outhouse he looked to Regis and Barnibus. 

“First thing is first.” Geralt said wincing as he spoke. “Regis, help me get back to the house, but then you need to go into the alchemy lab for me and get me some swallow.”

“BB heat some water to boiling, and have it ready for when he comes back.” Geralt said. “We are going to need a sterilized scalpel to re-open this and get the dead tissue out. Third thing is I need a bath so bring that in, I will use it directly after I get stitched back up again. Third thing, food. Marleen better have something at the ready because we have ate for shit for the past three days.”

“You enjoy giving orders it seems.” Regis said an amused smirk playing across his lips. “Oh yes master I shall get you what you seek.”

Geralt smirked.

“Oh sorry esteemed friend. I am in desperate need of assistance, could you go to the trouble of helping me out I am oh so incapable at the moment. I would be greatly in your debt.” Geralt said batting his eyes. 

“Mmmmm Sarcasm.” Regis said pursing his lips amusement filtering in his eyes. “I missed this.”

“Several other things happened while you were asleep.” Barnibus said leading them back into the house. “Several messangers have stopped by, one had a contract for you Geralt, the Other brought clothing for you Regis. Roach threw a shoe at some point yesterday so we have a Ferrier on his way out today to see to her. I have retrieved your armor from the armorer in Beauclair, the bear armor you favor. I went to the Quarry to pick out stone for the bath. They made their first delivery of it yesterday.”

“Also we had the first changes begin in the trees, the subtle ones you told us to look for. Fall is on it’s way despite how hot it has been, the Harvest will begin in the next week or so for grapes.” BB said running down the mental checklist. “The Olives have all been harvested and are currently brining in the cellars. The first change out of the brine should be in two weeks. You have also begun receiving invitations for things for the Emperor’s upcoming visit. Primarily at the tourney. They would like you to pre register as soon as you are able.”

“A lot happened in these past two days.” Geralt groaned sighing as they finally reached back inside the house. “Regis, you do you have a mount?” 

Regis startled for a moment looking down at Geralt as he placed him on a chair in his bed chamber.

“No I do not, not at this current moment anyway.” Regis said pondering. 

“We are going to be traveling to Dillengen as soon as my neck is healed up enough.” Geralt said wincing as he touched at the enflamed skin. “Regis will need a mount. Preferably an even tempered one, one that is at the very least used to working around weapons and ballistics. One who can travel the winter passes without startling and sending us down a cliff. Spare no expense on this animal.”

“Anything else you would like to add to that impossible list?” Barnubus arched an eyebrow from behind his glasses. 

“Yes actually. I am going to need a biting stick when Regis gets back.”

“Right away sir.” Barnibus turned towards the door and stopped. “The contract is on your desk. Look it over it seems quite lucrative.”

Regis handed him the contract and Geralt glanced at it as he was left alone for a moment while the man and Vampire set out for their respective tasks. He the last of the blackblood had left his system, shortly after the trip to the outhouse, and now he was feeling the fever of the infection on his neck. Regis had told him he couldn’t have a healing potion when the black blood was still in his system. And their day of sleeping had made him miss an opportunity to take one before it could get infected. 

Sighing he let his eyes drift vaugely over the contract, vaguely taking in the words but not really seeing them. The first thing on his mind this morning besides his aching neck had been Regis. He was trying not to recall the night with Anna Henrietta, but Regis, something had opened a door in him he had buried under lock and key. Regis if Geralt was being completely honest with himself, had taken Dandelion’s place as his best friend back when they were traveling with the hanza. He was a voice of reason, and saved his life enough times that Geralt had lost count. He wasn’t afraid to call Geralt on his bullshit when Geralt became moody and prickly.

That had kindled his interest in the vampire, long ago. He remembered having nights where the rest of the Hanza was alseep on the road, when him and Regis would just talk about anything and everything. Geralt mostly bemoaned his lack of Ciri, and lack of Yennifer. However some nights when they talked he would start to feel this little prickle at the back of his mind. It was a respect that went beyond respect. A Friendship that went beyond friendship. He saw the way Regis regarded him when he was ungaurded, and that same pain he had witnessed two nights ago was always there in the wings. Geralt finally had begun to put the puzzle pieces together.

His own body began to betray his feelings towards the vampire the more he thought of him, that pain, the embrace they shared with their foreheads touching, waking him up in the morning when the first thought that crossed his mind was ‘Beautiful’ . It had been intimate. Intimate, and right. The rightness about it settled into Geralt’s chest. It scared him. Scared him to his core. 

He had always been the one that was pursued. Yennefer first, then Triss, then Fringilla, all of them had seen him and wanted him. He thought from observing those around him that love would always follow physical affection. He wasn’t wrong. But the love always felt hollow, and unreal. It was if he had an instruction book to put together a fence kit, he followed the instructions to the letter, yet when he looked at the fence, it just wasn’t right. Boards were tilted at odd angles, and some of the planks had been replaced with paper. It looked like a fence, and it could function like a fence, but if he had put it any scrutiny more then just ‘this is how it is supposed to be’ He could easily find the faults. 

With Regis it was different. It’s as if the vampire had laid cement foundations and the main posts, stood upright and unwavering. As life had gone on Geralt had started begrudgingly building the fence along side Regis till it became easy, and enjoyable. Geralt groaned to himself and brought the contract up to his face. He had never pursued anyone, and the idea of attempting to see if Regis could potentially want something more had settled into his gut like a lead weight. He was going to have to think long and hard about how to go about this before he made a mess of things.

Barnabus returned first and handed Geralt the biting stick. 

“I hope that will be enough, that wound is terrible.” Barnabus said hovering over Geralt’s shoulder as he spoke. “I am glad master Regis is here. I can patch up small things, and do stiches if necessary, but this, parts of it look dead.”

“Yes, and it’s starting to smell.” Geralt said feeling the fevered pool of liquid forming at the base of his neck.

“Could you heal from it given enough time?” Barnabus asked fascinated as be began to shift the tools and table over to Geralt’s side. 

“Yeah without the shadow of a doubt.” Geralt said. “But it would be uncomfortable for weeks, and I have to be back on the road in days.”

“Did you read over the contract?” Barnibus asked plucking the paper from Geralt’s grasp. 

“Mmmm I attempted.” Geralt said shifting in the chair and hissing as his neck protested. 

“It says here that there is a fiend terrorizing a pear orchard on the estate of one Rickard family in Metinna.” Barnabus said. “The reward for removing it is a solid 1,500 crowns.”

Geralt’s ears perked and he sat up a little higher. 

“Really?” Geralt said feeling his eyes narrow. Regis walked in with two bags that Geralt recognized as being left amongst Regis’s things when he cleared out the Cemetery hideout. 

“Yes really.” Barnibus said eyeing the contract. 

“Seems a little high.” Geralt said watching Regis as he grumbled to himself and shuffled through his bags for the tools he would need to help Geralt. “ Normally contracts don’t list a price outright, as folks like to negotiate.”

“Whats the price?” Regis said finally finding what he needed and setting everything out on the table on a clean towel. Geralt saw several tools he recognized, as well as several he didn’t. 

“1,500 crowns.” Barnabus said setting down the contract, and leaving the room to fetch some water. 

“For what?” Regis asked satisfied with the way his tools were arranged. He fished in his bag again and brought out a nail cleaner and began to fuss with his fingers which he had allowed to dull. 

“A Fiend, terrorizing a pear orchard.” Regis looked up from his task momentarily.

“Set by whom?” Regis asked resuming cleaning out from under his nails. 

“Rickard estate.” Geralt said trying to not move his neck to look at the Vampire. Regis momentarily looked up his face screwed with concentration. Geralt could feel something shimmering right outside of his minds eye. 

“That confirms my suspicions.” Regis said. “Don’t take the contract.”

“Why not?” Geralt’s eyebrows shot up. “Not like I could right now anyway, but now you have me intrigued.” 

“I just confirmed with Dettlaff.” Regis said as Barnabus stepped back into the room with a bowl of boiling hot water. “Rickard rang a bell in my mind. The Rickards were under his families control for a while.”

Geralt felt Jealousy keying up despite himself. His thoughts earlier instantly soured. 

“Family? Dettlaff has family?”

“Everyone has or had family Geralt.” Regis shot the witcher a consternated look. “In his case it’s had. Not my story to tell. However, that name is known to us, thus avoid it. Now prepare yourself.”

Regis walked over to the bowl of steaming liquid and before Barnabus could protest and halt him, he doused his hands.

“Vampire BB.” Geralt chided. 

“Ah yes, one forgets.” Barnabus said easing his stance as Regis soaped up his hands and washed his arms up to the elbows. “What do you need me to do Master Regis.” 

Regis briefly explained what he would need Barnabus for, and Barnabus began soaping his own hands. 

“Keep in mind to wash afterwards as well, there are still traces of Black blood mixed in with the wound. You would poison yourself if not careful.” Regis said approaching Geralt. “As for you Witcher, Keep your hands down and cock your head.”

Geralt felt a grin of mirth sweep across his face at the mention of the word cock. He was such a child sometimes. Regis for his part snorted and rolled his eyes.

“ I know it’s going to hurt, but we need to handle this quickly before it gets worse, and destroys more tissue.” He said pointedly ignoring Geralt’s juvenile humor. “It will be impossible to stitch and you will run around with an open weeping wound. I will tell you when you need to insert the Ironwood Rod.”

Geralt hissed and braced his hands on the arm rests. The soap stung and Geralt felt himself biting the inside of his lip as Regis ran the doused cotton rag over his skin. The Pressure against his neck curled his toes and his breath hissed through his teeth. Once Regis was satisfied he slipped on a pair of leather gloves. 

“Now, Master Foulty, hand me the scalpel.” Regis said using his large hand and fingers to brace Geralt’s neck. “Geralt, now would be the time to bite down on that rod. I will not stop until this is done, and I recommend not fighting against me as it is futile and you know it.”

Geralt quickly slipped the ironwood rod in his mouth and braced himself.

What happened over the course of the next hour would rank among Geralt’s worse pain experiences. The only thing he had experienced that had been worse was when he was at the Temple of Meletele under mother Neneke’s Care for his neck wound from the Striga. 

When Regis cut into the infection puss began to flow, and the smell that filled the room would have gagged Geralt if he had been capable of gagging. Geralt yelled despite himself through the ironwood and clamped down hard enough that the wood nearly splintered. When Regis began to apply pressure to the wound to drain it further Geralt had to use a force of will he didn’t know he had to prevent himself from kicking and shying away from the touches. Several times Regis made new incisions with the blade, finding more pockets of infection and draining them. Barnabus was looking green and pointedly was breathing through his mouth as he mopped up the puss and blood that flowed down Geralt’s chest.

Regis was mumbling calming words as he worked. The first part was over when Regis again applied the harsh soap to the now open wounds and applied pressure to it with his hand. Geralt’s breath came in ragged gasps and sweat trailed down his forehead. Several of the vineyard workers had heard the commotion and were peaking through the door, as was Marline and her new scullery maid. 

Regis quickly picked up a bottle he had laid on the table and uncorked it. The smell that wafted through the room was a wonderful mix of lavender, cloves, wintergreen and pepper.

“This will sting Geralt.” Regis said. “It will feel like your neck is on fire. Trust me, it will help.”

Geralt made an Indignant surprised sound through the rod and his eyes widened. When the oil hit his wound his neck, his shoulder, and his chest felt like he had spilled molten metal on himself. Regis held Geralt steady with strong hands as Geralt trashed, screamed, and the tronwood rod began to splinter. His eyes were wild as adrenaline spiked through his system, and the chair he was in groaned with the pressure Regis was applying to keep Geralt in it. 

Geralt quieted as he felt his body go into shock. His pupils widened, and he felt the blood sucking from his hands and feet making them cold. Regis removed his hands as the fire began to dull to ice. Geralt felt limp and exhausted. 

“Now that’s over with lets begin the work of repairing this.” Regis said. “I am deeply sorry for that Geralt, but it will make you much more comfortable for this next part.”

Regis cleaned the scalpel with a strong smelling alcohol and Geralt winced a whine escaping his mouth around the Ironwood. Geralt winced as he saw Regis dive back in, but was surprised when Regis began to place chunks of dead flesh on the towel that Barnabus was holding. At one point he examined one of the hunks and narrowed his eyes. 

“Intresting.” He said placing it on the table away from the other chunks.

There was an occasional sting and the constant feeling of tugging as Regis worked but never anything like the initial pain of the infections being lanced. Geralt felt his body slipping back out of shock and his heartbeat slowing as Regis worked. At some point Regis had picked up another tool and was rasping it through the wound. Geralt could feel blood trickling down his chest. 

When he finally had the wherewithal to look at Regis, Regis himself looked like he was struggling. A thin sheen of sweat covered the vampire’s face. He was concentrated on what he was doing, but Geralt could see Regis’s fangs clear and sharp as he licked and bit at his lips. Barnabus had called one of the onlookers at the doorway to take away the stinking rags that had caught the initial pus.

The smell of rain swept through the room as soon as the bloody rags were gone. Geralt felt himself inhaling deeply and allowing the smell to wash over him. He knew this smell, this was Regis’s smell. The under tang of what Geralt now had identified as vampire musk flooded his nose. Regis had stopped breathing and looked down to Geralt who’s eyes were now half lidded. Color had risen to the vampires Cheeks as he forced himself to look away from Geralt’s eyes and resume his task. 

Geralt closed his eyes and eventually felt the rasping stop. 

“The… needle, if you would… Master Foulty.” Regis said his voice strained. Geralt Recognized the strain and sat up and spit the ironwood rod out of his mouth. 

“Regis.” Geralt didn’t get to finish before Regis’s eyes were on him. They were fluctuating, black creeping in and out of the sclera like water.

“You will say no more Geralt.” Regis said hissing and taking the needle and thread from Barnabus. The whole room grew tense. 

Geralt grew still as Regis worked, and tried his best to ignore the smell as it thickened and surrounded him. Geralt could feel the tug of the needle and thread as it pierced his skin and the wounds began to close. 

Finally at the end of the hour Regis looked down at his work and nodded to himself.

“We are finished.” Regis said his eyes back under control, but the strain still there. “Geralt please stay there a moment.”

Geralt did as was told and tentatively moved his head around. His neck still hurt, but the fever had been dissipated. Regis pulled off the gloves and tossed them on the towel with Geralt’s leftover flesh and grabbed the small chunk of flesh he had put aside. He quickly walked to the water basin and washed his hands and the chunk, which turned out to be a marble of some sort. Barnabus took the moment to look at the wound on Geralt’s neck and whistled to himself.

Regis finished up and grabbed two bottles.

“Here, Swallow, and my own special pain killing concoction.” Regis said handing the bottles to Geralt. “Take the Swallow now, take the pain killer after you eat. I need to go, I will be back later.”

“Regis wait!” Geralt said wincing as he sat up and called to the exiting vampire. Regis stopped and turned his head.

“Thank you, thank you for everything.” Geralt said breathless.

Regis Smiled at him fondly with a sad note before pushing through the small throng of people and exiting the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regis and Geralt are potatos about their feelings! YEP
> 
> And Regis is struggling hardcore against a great many things!
> 
> Ah yeahhhhhhh


	13. appetency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regis pulls himself away from Corvo Bianco to deal with his feelings, as Geralt gets himself into trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter? Uh... longing? 
> 
> Also A very drugged up Geralt. 
> 
> Also Merry late Yule!
> 
> As a gift I shall be posting two chapters today!
> 
> Enjoy!

Regis misted away from the estate as soon as he was out of eyesight and beelined for the river. His crows followed him, calling out to him and trying to offer their words of comfort as Regis felt himself tearing in two. As soon as he got there he re-materialized and stripped his clothing off and waded into the cold waters. The shock to his system was a small comfort as his breaths came in ragged gasps and he felt his usually slow heart pounding in his chest with the force of a blacksmiths hammer.

He could still smell Geralt’s blood all over him. His friends blood, the same blood that had set him to frenzy in Tesham Mutna. He was confused, hurt, and in general attempting not to panic as his instincts told him to not to bite Geralt, but to instead coat himself in his friend’s blood and smell. He wanted to roll in it, fill his nose with it. He wanted to follow his nose to the man’s neck, wrists, feet and groin where humans had their scent glands. He wanted to lick them, taste them, tease them. He wanted to claim Geralt, and the idea that he could not was beginning to drive him insane. 

He had not felt this intensely about anything since he was young, and he attracted a mate. The thought of that women set his blood to boiling and he felt his body transform. He let off a high pitched keening screech that caused the water around him to reverberate with the hypersonic force of the call. Inside his head memories played, But they all became a jumble as his focus honed in on Geralt as he fell to Regis’s glamour in Anna Henrietta’s rooms. It wouldn’t have been so bad but after Regis broke the glamour on Geralt, his body was still reacting. The heady scent of the man filled him.

Regis picked up a handful of sand and began scrubbing at his body with it willing the scent away, but he could smell it in his mind’s eye. And He could see it. He saw Geralt’s reaction to him. He had seen it several times over the years, but he wasn’t even sure that Geralt himself knew. He saw it the morning he woke up in the guest bedroom, When Geralt’s skin had flushed, and his mutated human pheromones washed around him. 

Regis shuddered as the memory sent a pulse straight to his groin. Regis hissed and grabbed ahold of himself under the water. Flashes of memories from over the years played in his mind as he began to tug on himself to find relief from the ache that seemed to fill his soul to bursting. Anger at himself, confusion, hope, grief. He had wanted to take Geralt at Tesham Mutna. To ruin him. To watch as the white haired man lost himself in a haze of lust Regis had only seen the surface of as he observed Geralt throughout the years. 

He had wound up with that Succubus to keep himself in check as Geralt fell under Fringilla Vigo’s spell. She had understood immediately and allowed him to take her, to ruin her, all to keep himself from loosing his fragile hold on his self control. He roared.

There was no such outlet now and he was beside himself with need. His grip on his cock was tight, and painful. The strokes rough, and ill paced. The shocks of pleasure just brought more images of the man as he swallowed Regis. 

Regis bucked his hips as he came, the intensity of the action throwing him backwards into the water. The sounds were muted as his vision flashed white and water filled his lungs. He felt his back slide along the riverbed as spasms rocked through his body.

Control was slow coming back, and he felt boneless and empty. He floated along the bottom letting the slow current carry him as shame washed over his consciousness.

A sudden concerned nudge through the bond he shared with Dettlaff startled him to standing and he burst out of the water coughing and sputtering to clear his lungs of the water that had flooded them. He didn’t Realize he had left the bond wide open. 

Concern, and comfort flooded the bond from Dettlaffs end. Regis felt overcome and sobbed sending a wave of confused and halted emotions back to Dettlaff. It eventually settled into a pattern of hurt and love and longing. 

Dettlaff sent back a wave of patience and determination followed by love, and family. 

Regis pulled himself to the shore and collapsed in a heap. He transformed again regaining his human form and sobbed. Longing wracked him. He long thought he had suppressed his vampiric nature, his emotions gray and dull. He had prided himself on it even. He had been fooling himself for so many years. It was only a mask, a mask that was quickly cracking. He faced it now. His love for Geralt was consuming, agonizing, and so very wonderful. But the fear of alienating the man, the fear of rejection, and the fear of loosing control in front of the man suffocated him. 

He felt himself heave as his pain was made physical water spilling from his stomach to the ground. He lay on the shore under a tree weeping, allowing himself an outlet for the emotions. 

Slowly he came back to himself as Detlaff sent comfort, love, and support over the bond. The warm feeling of the other vampire grounding him as he let his unsung emotions drain from him as the water dried from his skin.

\--------

Geralt had done as Regis instructed as soon as the vampire had exited the house. The second the swallow had hit his lips he could feel his skin knitting back together with a speed he never expected. Marline had made perogies which Geralt ate with reckless abandon while Barnabus ordered the house staff to collect the tub and water. When he finally felt full he took Regis’s painkiller. Now he was watching as the maids of the estate filled the tub with water from the well. 

The pain killer was beginning to take effect and Geralt felt his muscles begin to relax. 

When the tub was finally full he shooed the maids out of the room and warmed the tub by sticking his fingers in the water and casting igni. It was a practiced effort, one that he had done a million times. As soon as steam began to rise from the water Geralt tested it. It was perfect. Just shy of scaling. 

He grabbed soap, shampoo and some oils from his table and quickly dumped the oils in the water. He had settled on orange oil and lavender oil, as that is what Regis had been doused with and the smells were reminding him of the vampire. As soon as he slipped into the water he groaned. With a concentrated effort he washed his hair, and washed his body. He scrubbed to the point where he felt his skin stinging, and satisfied he laid back in the tub to allow the soap to wash from his hair and his body.

The pain killer kicked in at full and Geralt wilted into the water his muscles relaxing and the aches and pains from the past two days beginning to disappear and they were replaced with a euphoria Geralt knew was from the buggertick. He knew there was something else in there, something he had never encountered, but with Regis making it there was no telling what kind of craziness was in it. He crossed his legs and got his body in the round bath as deep as he could and immersed his body letting the scents fill him and the oil coat his skin. He fell into his meditative state by instinct and allowed his body to speed his healing.

He had lost track of time when a sudden shock sent him out of his meditative state and went through him radiating from his chest causing him to sit up and hiss. Pain, physical and mental ripped through him coming from an outside source. His mouth began to hurt and his fingers began to tingle. The pain killer raced through him causing a hazy glow around whatever it was. He felt his nails bite into the wooden edge of the tub. Geralt looked at his hands.

He fell back into the tub with a splash his yellow eyes wild and wide. He looked at his hand in horror. Claws had pushed their way from his nailbeds and had extended beyond what he thought his mutations would allow. A twisting horrible feeling ripped his way through his chest and he bit his tongue in an effort to keep himself from calling out. He felt blood fill his mouth as his teeth pierced through the tender flesh. Shocked Geralt shakily brought a knuckle to his mouth. 

He felt his teeth pierce the skin of his hand as easily as a well honed blade would slice through butter. Panicked he shot from the tub splashing water all over the floor as he did so. He bolted in front of the mirror in his room and looked at his face. Blood ran down his chin from his knuckle and tongue and intermixed with the water as it flowed down his neck. Hesitantly he brought his hands up. The claws stuck out several centimeters. 

Carefully he opened his mouth and looked. His canines top and bottom had elongated to a razors edge. And his first premolars had elongated edges on them as well. Not as long as the Canines, but long enough to cause concern. Carefully Geralt examined his mouth in wonder as the twisting pain began to taper. His eyes were glowing as if he had activated his mutations, but he did a quick check and he hadn’t activated anything.

Panic raced through him as he stood back from the mirror. Another wave of pain washed over him. This time he did call out and he turned trying to dash for the doorway. His feet hit the water on the floor and he felt himself falling. A sudden pain lanced through his head and everything went dark.

 

Geralt startled awake when he felt a delicate but callused hand on his bare chest.

“Geralt lie still you hit your head.” Geralt looked around wildly before his eyes honed in on clear bright green eyes. 

He instantly bucked forward and latched onto the tall woman in front of him.

“Ciri… Gods… Ciri.” Geralt clung to the woman and began to shake. 

“Easy does it, easy does it.” She cooed wrapping her own hands around him and running her blunted nails across his back. “You had a pretty nasty fall with the water all over the floor like that. You gave yourself a concussion.”

Geralt suddenly jerked away and looked at his hands. They were normal. He ran his tongue along his teeth, they were normal. There were no marks on his hands from his teeth, and his tongue was perfect and not sore. He still had the taste of blood in his mouth though. His heart began to slow, and the painkiller Regis had given him washed back to the forefront.

“What on earth Geralt?” Ciri said her eyes concerned as she looked at the scarred man.

Geralt felt a wave of euphoria relax his muscles and he fell boneless into his bed, which was damp.

His eyes half lidded he looked up to his daughter and huffed catching his breath from his panic.

“Whatever mmm Regis gave me packsh one hell of a punch.” Geralt said feeling his words slur. “I Ha-hallunistaed”

“I’ll say.” The women said looking around the room.

“How did I get back on the bed?” Geralt asked looking down and finding to his relief that a sheet covered him. 

“Well, I blinked in and Marline was in your room with Janice, her new scullery maid, and they were both fretting.” Ciri said placing a warm hand on Geralt’s arm. “I wound up picking you up and setting you on the bed, they couldn’t move you, you were to damp and you were half fighting them.”

“What happened to your neck, and what on earth happened while I was out on that contract?” Ciri said her brows furrowing. 

“Mmmm got attacked… by a brusaa.” Geralt said his tongue feeling thick in his mouth. Reaching his free arm up he felt the stiches in his neck, which were luckily still intact. Ciri grabbed his arm gently and brought it back down.

“Don’t fuss with them.” She said.

“Theresh a.. a..plague Ciri!” Geralt said his eyes widening. “Anna… she caused it… sort of.”

Geralt felt his mind slow to a crawl as the women with green eyes regarded him. He reached up and touched her cheek where the scar was. His eyes widened and he bolted upright again.

“Yo… You were exposhed!” Geralt said grabbing her shoulders with clumsy hands. 

“You will lie down you over grown oaf.” Ciri pushed him back into the mattress and Geralt groaned and felt his eyes roll back as another wave of euphoria washed through his system. 

“Th.. The plague…” Geralt said trying to will his tongue to work. 

Ciri stood up and grabbed the comforter from the bed and wrapped it tightly around Geralt. Geralt tried momentarily to pull it off himself but Ciri sat down on it effectively trapping his arms.

“Evil.” Geralt hissed scowling at the women who was regarding him triumphantly. 

“Yes, so I have been told.” Ciri said smugly. “Now ease your fears Geralt. Kiera caught me before I came and ran a few tests. I am plague free and have an immunity built up to it already. No plague here, no shots. Just me and I am healthy and hail.”

Geralt felt himself relax and the last of the tension that was in his body drift away.

Ciri began to run her hand in a lazy circle on his covered chest. The slight pressure and motion calming him. He felt his eyes close and his mind began drifting away. 

“You are an impossible man you know that?” She said softly watching as his chest began to rise and fall in slow even movements. 

“Ciri.” 

“Yes Geralt?”

“Regis….” Geralt said the name falling out of his mouth in a whisper.

“Where is he?” Ciri asked softly. 

“Dunno.” Geralt said his eyes opening. 

“He’ll be back then.” Ciri said glancing at the door. “He can’t have gone far, he left his bags here.” 

“Ciri… Regis… I…” Geralt felt another wave of euphoria wash over him and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

“He is ok Geralt. We all are.” Ciri said resuming the slow circling motions. 

“No.” Geralt said attempting to sit up again his eyes opening wide. 

“Lie still!” Ciri said applying pressure to Geralt’s chest.

“No Ciri… lishen.” Geralt said locking his eyes on his daughters.

“shhhhh Geralt… Rest.”

“No Ciri… I… I love him Ciri.” Geralt said willing his tongue to cooperate.

“Of course you do Geralt, he is your friend.” Ciri said a small smile gracing her face. 

“No.” Geralt said licking his lips his mouth dry. 

“You don’t love him then, that’s fine too.” Ciri said michiff making it’s way into her voice.

“No Ciri.” Geralt said his eyes rolling again as he tried to will himself to speak. “I love him Ciri. I Love him. I have… for a long… long long long time. Love his… voice… love him… to talk. He shemells like rain… I want to eat him… to touch him.”

Ciri’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened. 

“He sh… saved you… He… saved me.” Geralt said his hands flexing under the comforter with the will it took to talk “He… he is forever Ciri. My forever.”

Ciri was dumbstruck.

“He is sshad you know.” Geralt slurred licking his lips again. “So… so very… sad. So much hurt. I want him… I want him to feel happyness again. I think… I think he loves me too Ciri. He does… I can feel it in my toes. He… is everything Ciri. Everything and more.”

“Geralt, you are drugged.” Ciri said stammering as he watched Geralt’s eyes become unfocused. He didn’t hear her.

“I can feel his heart.” Geralt said his eyes closing. “It… shings to me. Shings to me every night he has been back. He is s… shafe. My heart… it anwsers. But He doesn’t hear it. Such a lonley song. He thinks… he thinks he sings alone, apart. But Ciri… he is my forever, my forever and beyond, and I am his… I… he…..”

Geralt finally fell back into unconsciousness leaving Ciri dumbfounded, her chest aching, and tears in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yup. Both of them are dummies, and will continue to be dummies!
> 
> Love em though!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri prevents a disaster and Drugged Geralt starts formulating a plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY YULE!!!! Enjoy the second chapter this week as a gift from me to you!
> 
> Lets see warnings this chapter
> 
> Feelings, lots of them
> 
> Drugged Geralt again.
> 
> Also again... THIS IS A SLOW BURN
> 
> SLOW AS FUCK....
> 
> slow enough that it actually annoys me... the one who wrote it... but hey! AH WELL  
> ENJOY

Ciri sat on Geralt’s bed as the man slept his arms still pinned by the comforter. Her elbows were on her knees and her hands on her lips. Tears were flowing from her eyes as she listened to the easy breathing of the man she called father. The revelation had been a shock, but not an unexpected one. Ciri had been through time, seen things, and done things that were impossible. She had wandered and observed many potential futures with her powers. This one was always a possibility, but she had thought it so far fetched that she had abandoned the vision, solely on the grounds of her own bias’s towards Geralt’s personality. The grounded solidarity of this moment being a fixed point in time slid through her like a snake. She had judged wrong.

She had to tell Avallac’h. He was still teaching her to navigate the potential futures, and whenever one fully came to light and the paths began to diverge from it, it always frightened her. Darkness and foreboding filled the end of these paths, and a hazy vision of evil stood at the end laughing with fire filled eyes.

The dreams would begin again, now that this potential future had been reached. Ciri had learned early on to travel the paths and not dwell on them, but the sense of foreboding that filled her frightened her in a way only the hunt had previously.

A click alerted her to the front door opening and closing. Silent steps and a silent form slipped in and Ciri jumped to her feet. She peaked around the doorframe of Geralt’s room and saw Regis walking towards the stairs to the guest room.

She stepped out around the doorframe taking a deep breath. She closed her eyes.

“Regis.” She said commanding power to her voice as she felt a nervousness she had never felt previous around the vampire. “We need to speak.”

Regis stopped and looked back towards Ciri.

“Now is not a good time Cirilla.” He said his voice strained as he turned to walk up the stairs.

Ciri balked and began to stomp after him anger washing through her and giving her confidence.

“No Regis you listen, and you listen right now.” Ciri said her feet thudding up the creaking stairs. “We need to speak and I am not about to be brushed off.”

She stomped up to the guest room and stopped when she reached the landing. Regis was facing away from her.

“I know what you are getting ready to do.” Ciri hissed. “And by Freya I will not allow it. Not now. Not ever. Turn and face me.”

She could see Regis start to shake. When he turned to her the raw pain in his eyes lanced her straight to her core. In Two long strides she bolted across the room and wrapped her hands around the vampire, if only to hide the tears that burned in her eyes. She felt the vampire stiffen before wrapping his long arms around her.

“You. Will. Not. Leave.” She hissed emphasizing each of her words with a squeeze. “I know you are going to try but I will not let you. I forbid it.”

She felt the vampire sob and his physical weight lean into her.

“Ciri, I have to.” Regis sobbed. “I… He…”

Ciri pulled herself away gripping onto the larger vampire’s shoulders. She felt her magic pulsing around her as she glued Regis to the spot.

“Ciri, let me go.” Regis sobbed in a whisper tears running down his face.

“No.”

“Ciri.. I have….”

“NO.” 

“Please!” Regis begged.

Ciri felt the Magic within her break free tendrils whipping around her in a green flash. Reality began to twist, and the world boomed in echo of her voice.

“NO.” Her voice echoed and the earth moved. Thunder shook the house as Regis collapsed in a heap covering his head and sobbing. Ciri got control of her magic and packed it away. Another rumble of thunder shook the house.

“If you leave….” Ciri said quietly wiping the tears off her face. “You will break him.”

Regis looked up to her as she crouched down and put a hand on his shoulder.

“You will break him Regis.” Ciri said again fresh tears falling. 

“Geralt… he…” Ciri bit her lip.

Regis looked up to her pain written in the lines on his face. 

“Regis. Geralt… he…” She choked on the words. “He loves you Regis.”

“Of course he does, He is my friend.” Regis said looking down anger and hurt radiating across his face.

“Do not be thick about this not now.” Ciri said lifting the vampires chin and looking him in the eyes.

“He told me.” Ciri said softly. “He is drugged beyond all recognition at the moment. But he told me.”

Regis’s vision suddenly sharpened.

“He needs you.” Ciri said softly. “He loves you, more then I have seen him love anyone else.”

“Impossible.” Regis spat breaking away from Ciri’s Gaze. 

Ciri growled and grabbed his face with both hands.

“He said, and I quote. ‘He is my forever, and I am his’” Ciri said holding the vampire’s head fast. 

Regis’s eyes got wide, and fresh tears filled them. With a suddenness and a strength only a vampire could have Regis launched forward and clung to the women sobs wracking his form. Ciri let him cry, tears flowing from her eyes as well. She stroked his back through his dirtied shirt as he choked and heaved his claws digging into her back as he tried to ground himself.

They sat there and Ciri cooed to him and hummed, something Geralt used to do when she was stressed and emotionally wracked. Rain began to fall and the rumble of thunder soothed her as the vampire began to calm. She rocked him as his sobs turned into gasping breaths. Soon he quieted his breathing slowing and his body relaxing.

“How… how do I do this.” He whispered against her. 

“I don’t know Regis. I truly don’t.” Ciri said sniffing loudly. “I do know this. He can’t express it. Not properly.”

Regis pulled away and wiped at his nose and face with his shirt front.

“What do you mean?” Regis said miserably. 

Ciri sighed and sat up straight wiping at her face. 

“Do you know what being a witcher entails?” Ciri asked looking at the vampire as he again wiped at his eyes. 

“Vaguely.” Regis said. “Only what I have read, and what Geralt has explained, which hasn’t been much.”

“Witchers are taken as children, which you know.” Ciri said looking beyond him. “They are put through a horrible ordeal, one in which involves them suppressing and ignoring their emotions. When they go through the trails part of the mutations involve the endocrine systems. Specifically the ones that involve Oxytocin. Their systems get flooded by it constantly, to the point where their bodies create an immunity to it. You know what Oxytocin is correct?”

Regis nodded. “It’s the hormone that humans produce that allow them to acquire bonds, and to feel love.”

“And because his system is flooded with it constantly, he has no way to tell when he is or isn’t having a genuine physical reaction to a person he is attracted to.” Ciri wiped at her eyes again and sniffed. “On top of not being able to read his own physical reactions, the witchers are put through an ordeal that makes them suppress emotions. They did it by not informing them what they were feeling. They were cold. Their masters were cold. Any attempts at learning these emotions were physically beaten out of them. Emotions are a liability on the path. And time and time again it’s been proven by the deaths of those that came before him.”

Regis’s eyes widened. 

“How absolutely horrid.” Regis breathed. 

“Geralt can’t read himself, he can’t express it, because he doesn’t have the words.” Ciri said her expression becoming firm. “He can love though. He loved Yennefer. And he loved Triss. He knows the vague concept, but not the practice. And what those women showed him, and what he thought love was, is a twisted form of it wrapped in manipulation. He has never been shown true romantic love at any point in his life. He has no gauge for it.”

Regis sat back his brows furrowed in concentration.

“How do I do this then.” Regis said. “You said he was drugged when he made the admission. I don’t know how I am to tell him, or when.”

“Regis…” Ciri said a sad smile crossing her lips. “No one knows that answer. Not even me. The best advice I can give is love him. Be there for him, and when the time presents itself, you will know what to do.”

Regis smiled and wiped the last of the tears from his face.

“Ciri… Ciri… Where are you?” Geralt’s voice called from down stairs his footfalls uneven echoing through the house.

“I know your heeeerrreeeeee.” Geralt said. “Regis too, it’s raining and his shcent is so thick in here… It’s like I am walking in a raiiin cloud.”

Regis and Ciri looked at each other and burst into laughter.

“HA See I Knew it… I…” There was the sound of a tumble and a chair squeaked across the floor. “Not attempting the shtairs….. To tall.”

“Melitele bless him he is drugged isn’t he.” Regis said pulling himself up to standing as he chuckled. “How much of the medicine did he take?”

Regis reached out his hand and helped Ciri up.

“I found an empty bottle on the table.” Ciri said.

“The whole thing?!” Regis balked. “He was to only take a sip… no wonder!”

“I can heeaar you talking!” Geralt’s voice drifted up the stairs.

Ciri and Regis burst into laughter again.

“Go to him, I will be down in a moment.” Regis said warmly. “I need to change out of these soiled clothes.”

Ciri laughed and plodded down the stairs.

“There you are witcheress.” Geralt said his eyes clearer but his head still lolling two and fro. He was wrapped in his comforter and flopped down in one of the dining room chairs. “I heard you two up there laughing like a group of Mother Neneke’s initiates. Gossiping clearly.”

“You could say that.” Ciri said smiling cryptically. “How are you feeling, how is your neck. Do you remember what happened when I came in?”

Geralt screwed his eyes shut and furrowed his brow. 

“I know you were here… you helped me…” I don’t remember anything… is all fuzzy. This shit Regis gave me is good shtuff. Makes white honey seem like a cheep vodka.”

Ciri laughed relief flooding through her. Soft footfalls down the stairs alerted her to Regis’s presence. 

“Ah there he is… My rain man.” Geralt grinned stupidly.

“How is your neck Geralt?” Regis said approaching the man with only a hint of trepidation. Ciri could see that there was a confidence in the vampire’s step.

“Good!” Geralt said flexing his neck. “Sore, but good!”

“Excellent, I will check the stiches tomorrow when you are less… drugged.” Regis said. “You were only supposed to take a sip you know.”

“Didn’t tell me tha…” Geralt said his head lolling again.

The door to the house suddenly burst open causing all three members to jump.

“Good gracious that storm came from out of nowhere, and so cold!” Marline and her scullery maid hurried in the door and shook themselves off. Both were wearing oiled wool cloaks that repelled the rain. “Geralt! I am glad to see you are up! After Ciri got you back on the bed I had Barnabus take me into town to get ingredients for dinner. Gonna make a stew. Caught some of those coneys that have been terrorizing the herb garden. Gotten plenty fat on all those plants.”

“That sounds delicious!” Geralt said smiling sweetly at the women. 

“Janus, take these onions and put them in a pot with some stock and bacon grease, I will be in there in a moment.” Marline said taking the girl’s cloak and hanging it on the rack near the door frame. 

“Yes ma’am.” The quiet girl said sneaking a look at Geralt, an obvious blush crossing her face. Marline gently pushed her toward the kitchen.

“None of that, not at the Master of the house.” Marline said tut tutting the girl who skittered off with an embarrassed look.

“I do believe she saw more of you then you meant her to see Geralt.” Marline said. “Forgive her.”

Ciri watched as blood rushed to Geralt’s face and he gripped the comforter around him tighter. Ciri burst out laughing, which caused Regis to chuckle. Marline made her way over to the trio. Without preamble she wrapped her hands around Geralt and gave him a hug and a mothers kiss on the cheek.

“I am so glad to see you up.” She said standing up and straightening her dress up. “You had us worried.”

“I always have you worried.” Geralt said looking at the woman warmly.

“That doesn’t mean that you have to constantly put yourself in situations that make the worry worse dear.” Marline said indignantly.

This time Regis laughed.

“You are asking the impossible.” He said smiling as Geralt scowled.

Marline laughed and headed to the kitchen.

“Ciri, there is something important.” Geralt said trying to brush his fluster off by changing the subject.

“Oh?” Ciri felt her stomach drop as she regarded the white haired man.

“Regis, there is a paper on my desk, the contract.” Geralt said his mind starting to clear enough to not make him slur his words. 

Regis regarded him quizzically and went to fetch the paper from the desk. 

“A contract Geralt, you can’t right now.” Ciri said frowning. “A couple days maybe, but not now.”

“’s not for me.” Geralt said shifting himself so the comforter dropped off his arms and chest. 

Regis returned and handed the paper to Geralt. 

“This one, Ciri is for you.” Geralt said looking at it and reading it. “Do you know what’s going on right now?”

“Yes vaguely, Yennifer filled me in.” Ciri said moving around to peak over Geralt’s shoulder. 

“Did she tell you that this whole thing, the plague, is not a simple terrorist act?” Geralt said regarding the green eyed woman. 

“She mentioned it.” Ciri said. 

“The plague was caused by a vampire, a spurned one.” Geralt said motioning for Ciri and Regis to sit down in the chairs at the dining table. “You know how you said that you met a Bruxa at the whore house and she said she was nervous about what was going on?”

Regis sputtered and glanced to Ciri with wide eyes. Ciri felt herself blush.

“Girl has needs too.” She said lowly trying to hide her face.

“Anyway, turns out she was right.” Geralt said. “Regis being here is proof of that. Long story short I am on a contract both from the duchy and from the vampire elder of the Garisham tribe, to find and eliminate one vampire Orianna. This of course does not get out.”

Ciri nodded her eyes becoming serious and sharp.

“The more complicated end of things, is that this Orianna was involved in child trafficking and running a network of blood farms for her and her devoted underlings.” Regis said taking over as Geralt felt the swoon of the medicine sweep him up for a moment. “According to Anna Henrietta, Both Orianna and the ex duchess’s cousin Fringilla Vigo have been in collusion with one another. Specifically they have been making a cosmetic from the blood of children. It’s a bastardized version of one you should be more then be familyar with as Yennifer relies on it heavily.”

“The makeup she uses to keep her youth.” Ciri said nodding. “I am more then familyar with it. I have made it. It requires no blood.”

“Precisely.” Regis said nodding and lacing his long clawed fingers together. “Anna Henrietta informed us in needed a hook of some sort. In return for funding the orphanage where the blood draws would take place, Anna was given unlimited access to the magic elixir. However, when Anna Henrietta was deposed, her usefulness to Orianna had run it’s course. There is a lot of history behind this, but Orianna herself is dangerous, she got thrown to the wayside several times over her lifetime and she is tenacious in her need to be self important. She has and had entrenched herself in the various pockets of aristocracy throughout Nilfgaard after the vampires took a disinterest in her. She is power hungry. That being said, the ex-duchess had proved that she is no longer of use and can not be used to raise her station any further so she has been discarded. In return, according to the young bruxa Geralt killed, Fringilla and Orianna made a joint decision to kill Anna Henrietta and release the plague on the populace.”

Ciri’s eyes widened.

“This, goes deep.” Ciri said her brows furrowing. “Toussaint is without a rudder, no offence to Damian and Yennifer. It’s a land of tradition, to the point of ridiculousness. They need a figure head.”

“They need a figurehead, and I know that dumb fucking mage better then most.” Geralt snarled surprising them. “They released the plague because the Emperor is coming. They are trying to keep him away, keep this place as destabilized as possible. I would bet my estate that Fringilla has something deeper up her sleeve.”

“That being said.” Regis said looking back to Ciri. “There is of course a lot happening. This contract that was sent to Geralt, it is directly tied to all this.”

“The contract is for a fiend, which is listed at a price of 1,500 crowns.” Geralt said looking at the paper. “It’s in Metinna, at the estate of one Baron Rickard. And it sounds to good to be true because it is. They sent it to me specifically thinking I would take it on because well... I like money as well as the next Witcher.”

“Of course what Geralt is failing to mention is the fact that Baron Rickard at one point served the Van Der Eretein family, Dettlaff’s family.” Regis said his brows furrowing. “I have not spoken to him face to face, so some of this may be off, and Dettlaff may not be remembering correctly because he was taken from his family when he was a child, but the baron held the lands in title that the Van Der Eretein family had. He was their human proxy. Vampire relationships with humans are complicated as you well know. When Dettlaff’s family was split, their holdings were given to another vampire family. Who or what they were is beyond both of us, so that is an unknown. However the name is known to us so I, at least, am fairly certain it is a trap. Which is why I am now wholly confused as to why this was brought up?”

“I have a plan.” Geralt said looking at the confused Vampire and the women. 

Regis raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips.

“Yes? Do go on.” He said a hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

“Ciri, you are going to go to Metena and see what these people are about.” Geralt said turning his head towards her. “You know the risks you take with vampires, and higher vampires. I trust you can handle yourself. Find out what the connection is. And if it turns out not to be a trap, kill the fiend and you can keep the cash. Bring two Male Proxies with you, preferably ones built like me and Regis. We will make the vampires think we left with you south to seek the contract out. “

“Meanwhile, you and I will take the long route out of the palace underground through the ruins, and take off northwards towards Dillingen.” Geralt said seriously. “ Ciri, you know the rules correct? In over your head, blink back here immediately.”

Ciri felt herself rolling her eyes.

“Yes Father.” She said shooting the witcher a look. “I will go to begin to make preparations, but not before I eat. How long till you are recovered?”

Geralt winced and felt his neck as the tenderness had started to return. 

“Give me two days, Regis and I will meet you at Beauclair palace just after sunrise.”

“Geralt I do not like this.” Regis said his hands wringing together nervously. “There are to many unknowns to just send her out there like this.”

“My Dear Regis.” Ciri said leaning forward and placing a hand on the vampires knee. “I have been hunting on the path now for two years. Before that I was pursued by everything under the sun. I think I can manage though your concern is noted and highly appreciated.”

“Sorry Cirilla it’s just…” He looked away pain filtering through his features. Geralt narrowed his eyes. 

“I understand, I truly do.” Ciri said giving his knee a squeeze. “Do not fret, I will be fine.”

“It should be me fretting!” Geralt said with indigence. 

“And if you start I will tie you up and leave you to the crows Geralt.” Ciri said shooting her father a look. 

They shared all shared a quiet laugh lifting the tension from the serious topic.

\----------

Ciri was at the stable where Roach was bedded down at Corvo Bianco, her own black horse Kelpie had been worrying at the old bay for the past few hours. She gently patted the horse as she gathered her effects. Barnabus had been caught on his way back to the estate by Morvran who told him to bring Ciri her horse back. She wondered at the black horse that had been with her through thick and thin. She had settled from a wild mare, to a truly great and steady horse. Ciri couldn’t help spoiling her every time she saw the beast and had stole some sugar cubes from Marlines cupboard for the horse. 

As she was prepping her bags, putting the contract inside it as well as several food gifts for herself and others back at the palace she felt a presence tingle behind her. The presence cleared it’s throat.

“Is he asleep again?” Ciri asked, turning her head just enough to see the vampire. He was wearing a simple set of pants and a tunic that Geralt had in the guest bedroom drawers. His feet were exposed and the same sharp claws that tipped his fingers tipped his long toes. She looked down at his shadow, it was wavy and hazy, like the shadow of thick smoke, but only where there wasn’t clothes draped on his form. 

“Yes, he is asleep again.” Regis nodded slowly. “I gave him another dose of swallow.”

He noticed Ciri looking at his shadow and sighed.

“It can be disconcerting the first time you see it, can’t it.” Regis said looking down at his shadow. “It is honestly one of the primary things that makes me feel as if I don’t belong here. Thousands of unique species all of them brought here by doorways leading to other worlds and times. And yet ours is the only species that do not produce a physical shadow.”

Ciri could feel the pain radiating off of the vampire as his eyes grew distant. 

“I wanted to thank you,” Regis said coming back to himself and regarding the tall willowy woman before him. “What you did earlier today was exemplary. I realize that you finding out before Geralt was likely a shock, and it’s still wondrous to me that you would allow and encourage such actions. You saved me from making a terrible mistake. I don’t know how you knew but… oof”

Ciri had closed the distance and wrapped her arms around the vampire.

“Regis, you are family.” She said listening to the slow heartbeat of the vampire as he breathed. “You saved me, I remember you clearly. A hero that looked like the biggest cutest bloodiest bat I could have ever imagined. It’s only fair that I return the favor.”

“You liked that form?” Regis said pulling her away and looking into her eyes.

“I have had and do have dreams constantly of you sweeping in and saving me.” Ciri said laughing. “Your fur was so black, and your ears were so large and twisting and twitching every which way. Your nose was wiggling like a rabbits as you scented the air. I do think it’s the only reason I didn’t run screaming as you ruined the lab and nearly lit me on fire. Had the circumstances been different I probably would have squealed in delight and attempted to pet you, as silly as it sounds.”

“That lack of fear is dangerous.” Regis said chuckling. “But shall I ever get the opportunity I promise I will allow you to… pet my bat form if it pleases you.”

Ciri couldn’t help the little excited squeal that passed through her mouth and the little dance she did in place, further amusing Regis. 

They quickly said their goodbyes after that and Ciri took off at breakneck speed on her Kelpie. Regis watched as she went, sighing he turned again to look at the warmly lit dwelling up on the hill. The sun had set, and all was quiet. He could hear the families in the servants quarters having their meals, a few of them sneaking out to go to the tavern that was close by. A strange feeling washed over him and grounded him. A feeling of home and belonging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MAN REGIS... You are a wreck! Geralt is a wreck too!
> 
> These dudes... ugh
> 
> And Ciri, the voice of Reason!
> 
> As always I love to hear from you!


	15. Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Regis head in to town only to be confronted with a reality.
> 
> The snake and the wolfboys help
> 
> And Regis lets them in on some secrets
> 
> Also there is a horse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter!
> 
> PTSD Talk of trauma
> 
> Merciless teasing of Eskel because goat
> 
> Wolf pack Dynamics
> 
> Geralt is a horn dog
> 
> As always if you like comment

When the next day dawned there was a hushed excitement about the vineyard. Geralt for his part had no nightmares that he remembered and woke up cocooned in his comforter. He was to hot, but he was also immeasurably comfortable and didn’t really want to move. The sound of a rooster crowing pulled him out of bed. Today would be the day that he resumed being a witcher, truly and utterly after a year off. No more sitting around in comfort lavishing the lifestyle of the rich. He had a job to do. 

The first thing he did when he got up was put on his armor. It had been adjusted slightly to deal with the muscle mass that he had put on so it didn’t pinch. It fit like a glove. The weight of it was extreme, chainmail and plate interlocking and intertwining with thick leather paneling. The weight grounded Geralt and put a spring in his step. He stepped into sitting room cocking his ear to listen for his vampire friend, and when he heard nothing he shrugged. 

Regis wasn’t a prisoner here, he could come and go as he pleased. 

Turning towards the door he grabbed his swords and then he dug his amulet from under his undershirt and rested it on top of the armor. He would still be able to feel it’s pull through the plated armor. He stepped outside and was met with the sun. He took a good deep breath of the morning air and smelled the ripeness of the grapes. The rain from the night before had already soaked into the ground and only a few small spots of mud were in the yard. 

Many of his workers were already up prepping for the upcoming harvest. There was excitement in the air. Geralt stretched his neck where the stiches pulled and itched and then took off running. The hills of Toussaint were no Kaer Morhen, but Geralt had picked a path long ago to run that would keep his skills up. And in full armor with swords at his back, the added challenge was always exhilarating. This was always when he felt his best. While he ran. His armor had been oiled, and the plates slid on top of each other with no noise as he hopped over creeks, up small cliffs, through a wooded glen, and across a creek which was just wide enough and deep enough to be annoying.

He ran at a sprint, only slowing to a jog momentarily now and then to readjust armor so that it fit properly while he moved. He felt alive and exhilarated as he dashed climbed, jumped and swung. The loop was about seven miles give or take, and it surrounded the whole of beauclair’s estate and meandered into some of his neighbors forests and wetlands. At the end of the path was a course he had set up that he had the young boys from the estate come up to adjust whenever they felt like it to give him new and exciting challenges. Normally there would be a gaggle of children around him at this point but the harvest was coming, and they were all preoccupied.

Taking his steal sword he darted through the last part of the course, hitting the target dummies, and avoiding any of the traps that the kids set with his blessing. He had to roll to avoid a log that dislodged itself when he hit a trip wire, and jump before a bear trap closed around his feet. All the while hitting the targets and moving to defend himself from their quick magical charmed retaliation. 

He finished the course feeling better then he had in a long time, and trotted over to the well to pull up a bucket of water to drink from. He few days of downtime hadn’t slowed him, and in fact had let his knee rest enough that it wasn’t shouting at him from the run. He could smell breakfast cooking now, as well as another heady scent coming from the cellars. 

Geralt poured a little water in his hair to smooth it back and jogged to the cellars where he could smell potions brewing. He smiled when he saw Regis with a pair of goggles on and his same loose shirt and pants from the previous night. They now were stained with something he has spilled on them but that didn’t matter. Here is where Regis was absolutely in his element. Geralt leaned against the wall and watched as the vampire worked.

“You are distracting, and I am completing a very delicate variation of this black blood potion.” Regis said tentatively putting a single drop of a blue fluid Geralt didn’t recognize into it. “I am using those notes from the scroll. Making this much much more lethal. But it will take a while for it to brew.”

Geralt wandered over and looked at the viscous brew. He noticed fresh ingredients including ghouls blood.

“mmm went hunting I see,” Geralt said looking at the mushrooms.

“Yes, I needed to blow off some steam after last night.” Regis said adding a drop of the ghouls blood to the potion and stirring it with a rod. The concoction at the bottom was beginning to get viscous. He added some rebus which was sitting on a piece of brown wax paper, and then he added some white gull. The mixture changed colors settling on a rich green color. He then added some Alcohest to the mixture and focused the flame under the small brewing cauldron so that it would boil quickly. 

“It’s at least stable now.” Regis said looking at it as the colors swirled around the pot. “Now I need to let it sit.”

The vampire dusted off his hands and wiped them on his pants. 

“Sure that’s not going to kill me?” Geralt said looking at the strange concoction. 

“At this point I can not say.” Regis said looking down at it. “However! If it doesn’t kill you this will likely make even a higher vampire think twice about pestering you.”

Geralt chuckled. 

“Come on, I already did my run Marline is making breakfast.” Geralt said then wrinked his nose. “And you need a bath.”

“I suppose I do smell rather ripe.” Regis said looking down at his shirt and taking the goggles off. “I encountered a type of ghoul I had never seen before Geralt. Some post conjunction one who spit bile at me. Bile! It was disgusting of course but I had to sample it! Such a basic fluid naturally created I have never seen. If nothing else I can use it to counteract Arch gryphons acid.”

Regis began to prattle on about his late night adventures and his inspiration to brew the new Black blood. Which he was currently calling Black black blood, but it was green. Geralt was amused by the banter and smiled and grunted when he needed to. Regis was ranting all the way back up to the house, and was still going on about his idea for the potential usage of the Ghoul bile, and bile ducts, and gal stones. He was excited, and Geralt couldn’t help but smile at his over animated explanations. 

“Breakfast is on the table for you boys.” Marline said then swept out of the house with Janice in tow. 

Regis looked at the food on the table and sighed.

“Whats wrong.” Geralt said eyeing the vampire as he stuffed a hard boiled egg into his mouth. 

“I didn’t realize how absolutely famished I was.” Regis said first focusing on a carafe of Blackberry juice.

They ate in content silence for a bit.

“It’s quiet around here today.” Regis said looking up. 

“Harvest time is nearly here.” Geralt said peeking out the door to the view of the vinyard. “I would give the main batch of grapes another week before harvesting.” 

“Batch? You are going to leave some on the vine?”

It was Geralts turn to start in on something he was passionate about. One of the things he had partaken in while he was helping Iovreth’s men in down time was a wonderful wine that they coveted called a'baeth ar invaerne. They had told him in passing it was made from keeping a very specific type of white grape on the vine till winter hit and letting it freeze over the course of several weeks. Then you plucked it and got the must. Geralt went over the brewing process in depth with Regis, and the vampire hung on every word. 

Finally Regis interrupted him. 

“Geralt, as much as I enjoy talking, I am absolutely filthy, and I can only take so much of that.” Regis said patting at his full stomach. 

“Lemme grab some folks and get them to get you a bath ready. You’ll have to use my room for it unless you want to sit in the middle of the living room, or outside.” Geralt said approaching the door. 

“Your room is preferable.” Regis said. 

Geralt made a warbling whistle that blasted out over the vinyard. Regis looked at him confused. There was an answering whistle. Now Regis was intrigued. Geralt whistled again the pitch and tempo changing. There was another anwsering whistle and Geralt turned from the door to clear the table. 

“What on earth was that?” Regis asked his eyes wide. 

“That was one of the ways we were taught to communicate at Kaer Morhen.” Geralt said shrugging. “Sometimes we would be miles away from one another in training units and we needed a way to say “Hey dinner.” “Hey Eskle’s goat is stuck on the outside wall.” Or “Vesimir’s mom wrote, she said you were good in bed last night.” It made sense to start teaching it to my workers. Calling out over a vineyard with a voice like mine all gravely and growly is a sure way to not let anyone hear I need them.”

Right around that time a couple of the larger male workers rolled the tub in and placed it in Geralt’s room. Geralt greeted them both by name and chatted with them as others began bringing buckets of water up. He asked after their families, made sure they were getting enough to eat and were comfortable. When there were complaints as small as they were Geralt assured them that they would get taken care of post haste. In no time the water was filled and the small retinue had filed out again to finish up prepping for the harvest. Geralt walked into his rooms and Regis darted upstars to grab some things from his bags and clothes and he quickly hopped back down. 

Geralt was waiting for him in his room. 

“How hot do you want it Regis. I can go from Tepid to boiling.” Geralt said 

“mmm somewhere between those two would be ideal.” Regis said setting down his clothes. 

Geralt stuck his fingers in the water and heated it.

Afterwards he quickly left when another whistle that Regis was now paying attention too drifted over the vineyard. 

Regis relaxed in the bath till it went cold, then washed himself and washed his hair and oiled his hair. He pulled himself out of the tub and he dried off with a soft terrycloth towel that Geralt had left him, then proceeded to get dressed and shave. When he walked out of the house he felt more himself then he had in ages. His familiar and repaired leather traveling clothes fit him like an old friend. Geralt was down at the stables with Barnabus, who had a very pretty Gray and black gelding waiting beside roach. 

Regis approached the animals careful to trod lightly. He sent one of his crows ahead of him to warn the beautiful creature that he was approaching and that he meant no harm. Geralt was stroking the horses neck as he spoke to Barnabus. 

Regis came up on the two men and put his arm on the horse’s withers. The horse was just taller then Roach standing at about 17 hands tall. The horse leaned away from Geralt and sniffed at Regis Regis ran a hand along the horses nose.

“Regis you will never believe this!” Geralt said shifting himself to pet roach who was beginning to stamp with impatience. “BB Found this guy getting ready to be sent to the slaughter house.”

“Why on earth would someone send this horse to the slaughter. He is beautiful.” Regis said feeling an unaccustomed fury sweep through his being. 

“Come look at the other side master Regis.” Barnabus said. Regis stepped around the horses front and had to suppress a gasp. A scar ran the whole length of the side of the horse. It was superficial, and well healed. But the molted black and pink scared skin made for a striking pattern against the heather gray of the horses body.”

“Slyzard.” Barnabus said. “The horse was healed by a mage at the order of the owner, but he passed away this past month and no one wanted to buy a scared horse. He is perfect. Used by a knight errant and his sons to battle what ever and whomever. He hasn’t even flinched since I road him home. Solid horse, very tame, but listens to orders well, and runs like the wind. He may not keep up with roach but he will give her a run for her money.”

“I could probably make a salve that would help the scaring too, it looks rather tight and in places uncomfortable.” Regis said this time patting the scarred side of the horse and running his clawed fingers along it’s side. It nickered at him and snorted lightly. “He will do Barnabus he is an absolutely magnificent animal. Besides I have a thing for scars I do believe. Something about them just seems roguish.” 

“Very good master Regis.” Barnabus nodded. “I will bring your saddle bags up to the house. Geralt said he would like to saddle the horses and head into Beauclair, to get some items for your trip. Will you be joining him?”

“Yes I will, Saddle him up.” Regis said turning. “I need to go make sure the blackblood is setting. I will return in a few moments.” 

“Any idea what you would like to call him?” Barnabus asked.

“You know… I think I do.” Regis said turning and grinning. “I am going to name him Vlad.”

Geralt snorted. 

“Let me guess, another pun?” He said referring to his old mule. 

“Perhaps.” Regis said grinning to himself as he walked up the path to the alchemy lab.

Regis was quick about his work. He turned the flame down further and added some mushrooms to the mix and another couple of sprinkles of various other ingredients. It had started to shift colors from a rich green to a very dark brown. A few more hours to concentrate it slowly would be ideal. 

Geralt for his part had gotten roach saddled and gotten his saddlebags emptied for the trip. When he saw Regis wandering down the path he moved roach to the entrance gate. 

Regis quickly hopped up onto Vlad and grabbed the reigns. He didn’t actually use them however. He stoked the horses neck and spoke low in his native vampiric tongue. He had always been able to influence animals, however Drakuul his original mule allowed him to experiment with something larger then a bird or a rabbit. He felt the connection immediately. This was an animal that felt worthless and was happy to be getting a second chance. He was sad his master had died, but was pleased to be of use to someone. Regis patted him fondly on the neck and told him in low words to follow the bay mare and the white haired one, and keep up, and keep an eye on the road so he didn’t trip or throw shoes. 

The horse danced for a moment spinning in a circle before trotting up to Geralt and roach his ears perked forward and his tongue loosely working at the soft bits geralt always used with his animals. 

“lets see what he can do Regis!” Geralt said taking off out of the gate like a shot. 

Regis grinned feraly and nudge the horse forward with a small squeeze of his legs. The race was on. Regis allowed the animal to take the lead only influencing him slightly when he felt hazards were upcoming that the horse couldn’t see. Vlad and roach weaved throughout the fields and roads at breakneck pace. Roach of course was still much quicker. But she also had the disadvantage of having a man on her back in full armor. Regis could make himself weigh nothing if he willed it. 

Geralt couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him as they ran at a break neck pace towards Beauclair. It had been a long time since he had done anything but ride Roach out of necessity from getting to point A to point B, or to keep roach in top condition. Geralt knew this was as close to a day off as he was going to get for a long time so he took advantage. 

When the vampire and the witcher arrived in Beauclair it was a changed city. Triage tents had been set up and members from Oxenfort’s medical corps ran around with Rags, refuse buckets, and various other items. Large vats of water and lye were set up to sterilize sheets and in general there was a craziness about it. The people of Beauclair had always been generous, but what Geralt witnessed as they lead their horses through the streets warmed him to the core. Those that weren’t sick or weren’t quarantined or who had been exposed and had natural immunity were running around tending to the sick just as much as the medical corps, making food, running errands. Geralt hopped off Roach and tied her to a post with a water trough and hay pile.

“This is absolute organized Chaos.” Regis said sidling up next to Geralt. “What do w e need here?” 

Geralt looked around for a moment before finding the shop he was looking for. 

“We need to get supplies. Specifically we need to get new bedrolls.” Geralt said weaving his way around the people that walked to and fro. There were nods and smiles sent Geralt’s way. And bowing. Much bowing. Regis was amused as the witcher became more and more flustered with the attention. 

When they finally made it to the shop Geralt looked like he had been awake for 40 years. Regis couldn’t help but laugh at the man as they stood outside the doorway and watched the passerbys for a moment. 

“Geralt de Corvo Bianco do come in do come in!” The shop keeper boomed when he finally realized who was standing at his door. “What can one humble man do for our cat eyed savior today?”

Geralt set about to bargaining with the man for two new bedrolls, Some oiled traveling cloaks, some thick warm armored riding gloves, and a few other smaller items which would be required for their trip. Geralt watched as Regis danced from place to place looking at every last item on the shelves, scrutinizing it, figuring out it’s intended purpose, then darting to another item. He had always been like this, though he never had gotten to see it much as they mostly took the back roads on their last big adventure that didn’t involve vampires.

When they were finished they hauled their prizes back to the horses, got them secured, then wandered into a few more shops.

When they arrived at their last destination, a herbalists shop and apothecary Regis looked excited. When they stepped in however Regis froze. Geralt was walking in after him and had to physically nudge Regis aside.

“What has gotten into you?” Geralt groused regarding the vampire. 

Geralt followed the vampires eyes. Two men stood in the Apothecary’s shop talking quietly. Geralt’s eyes immediately lit up when his gaze fell to the larger of the two. 

“Letho of Gullet!?” Geralt said Dancing around Regis who was still tied to the spot. 

The large man with the bald head and eternally scuffy face turned to regard him. Geralt saw a twinkle hit the larger mans eyes as he moved with a grace and reached over to clap Geralt on the shoulder.

“Geralt of Rivia, long time no see brother. Heard you had gotten tamed and planted yourself off the path around these parts.” The larger man rumbled “Would have never Expected the white wolf to stop roaming, especially if their wasn’t a sorcerous involved.”

Geralt felt Regis nudge up against him. The vampire was acting strangely. Geralt looked from Regis to Letho, but Regis wasn’t looking at the larger man. His eyes were fixated on the other man in the shop. A middling looking warrior with scars and a bald head. Geralt felt his hackles raise. Then Letho turned to look at the man as well. 

“Who’s your friend?” Geralt placed a hand on Regis ‘s shoulder and guided him between Letho and himself to create a wall against whoever the other person in the shop was. 

“This is Regis, Letho.” At the sound of his name he snapped back to reality and realized the buffer that had been placed between him and the man. “He is working with me on a contract at the moment in Metnena that we will be leaving for in short order.”

“Charmed!” Regis said his voice strained as he put out his hand for the other man to shake. Letho immediately took Regis’s hand and shook it, then in a practiced movement he examined it. Regis looked horrified.

“Strange company you keep these days Geralt.” Letho said dropping Regis’s hand and regarding him curiously. Well, Geralt knew it was curiosity. To anyone looking, and likely to Regis it looked like the larger man wanted to eat him.

“Strange times call for strange company.” Geralt said noticing that Letho had turned to the other man in the shop. “Thought in this case I have known Regis for just about a decade, and known about him for just as long. He is an… Anthropologist, of sorts, and a barber surgeon.”

Regis had moved to Geralt’s shadow and he could feel him shaking. Geralt reached down and gripped the vampire’s hand in his own and Regis squeezed back attempting to get as close to Geralt as he possibly could without it being awkward. His hand was cold, colder then normal and slick with sweat. Geralt activated his mutations, and looked at the man that was causing Regis such discomfort. 

“Letho lets go outside to catch some air, this place is making my sensitive nose burn.” Geralt said putting his other arm on the larger man and guiding him to the door, all the while pushing Regis in front of him. 

Letho let himself be lead out the door and the second they were Geralt grabbed them both and lead them down an alley. 

“Regis now would be a good time.”

“Thank the gods.” Regis sighed.

Geralt’s amulet jumped as did Letho’s as the spell was activated and Regis leaned up against the wall shuddering. Geralt hadn’t removed his hand.

“Well that was the most awkward introduction I could imagine, and believe you me with my history, I have had plenty of them.” Letho drawled looking down the alleyway towards the shop. The man that was in there ran out, looked both ways, cursed, and then turned into a puff of mist and shot off out of sight.

“Now, explanations are in order.” Letho said regarding Geralt.

“Letho this is Regis, a higher vampire and my closest friend.” Geralt said, Regis broke out of his stupor and shook his head.

“Dear me, my manners are atrocious.” Regis said removing his hand Gently from Geralt’s and moving to shake Letho’s for a second time. “Letho of Gullet, I have heard much about you and the favors you have done for my friend. He says you an admirable and complicated man of whom he would fight beside without a seconds hesitation. High Praise coming from a witcher. I am Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, I am indeed a higher vampire as Geralt mentioned, but I am also a humanist.”

“Is he always this wordy?” Letho drawled.

Regis whirled to Geralt the shake still visible.

“That was him, gods damn all that was him.” Regis said the shaking becoming worse. 

Geralt put his hands on the vampire’s shoulders. Letho regarded them curiously before adding his own hands. 

“Your friend here is traumatized,” Letho said his voice low as he took point and kept his eyes rotating around the alley. Regis screwed his eyes shut and attempted to wrestle control back. 

“I thought he never came out, that he was always guarding that stupid gate!” Geralt hissed pulling Regis closer to him. “Calm yourself, the spell has hidden us, and though we couldn’t kill him we most certainly could make his day shitty if he approached us again.”

Letho’s shrill whistle echoed down the alleyway surprising both Regis and Geralt. There was an answering one, much more practiced and quick. Then two more. 

Geralt had grabbed Regis’s face and had his forehead pressed to his as the vampire shook. Letho had closed in and had his large hands resting on Regis’s shoulders. Quick Footsteps Echoed down the alleyway as three men ran forward. 

“Letho, we came. Is this him?” one of the voices spoke. 

“Geralt?” Geralt recognized the voice but didn’t dare let Regis go till he got himself under control. The shaking was beginning to tapper off and his heartbeat was starting to slow. 

“Fucking asshole.” Geralt felt himself grin just a bit at that voice. He felt an arm on his shoulder, and another on his other one.

Regis opened his eyes and looked at Geralt’s they were still forehead to forehead and now surrounded by others, who were quietly waiting. 

“I am sorry Geralt.” Regis breathed the tension bleeding from him. 

“Are you ok?” Geralt said gripping the vampires head.

“No if I am to be perfectly honest, but I am regaining my functions.” Regis said sighing.

“No offence to anyone here, but what the fuck?” Regis pulled away and glanced around at the men, witchers all, who looked back on him with concern in their slitted eyes. The one who had spoke was Lambert.

Letho stepped away dropping his hands, and the other witchers followed suit allowing Regis to pull away from Geralt. 

“This, friends, is Regis. A higher vampire.” The witchers all regarded him in shock, except Letho who’s eyes were still looking around to keep guard.

“We just ran into the Elder of the Gharasham tribe of vampires.” Geralt said his voice clear as Regis shuddered and regained clarity in his eyes. “It’s a long story but I am on a contract. Regis here is my best friend, and the Elder has done horrible things to him. We can’t fight him, and I am trying to solve the mystery of the plague. You were recalled to support us.”

“That, is a pretty big mess.” Eskel this time, his horribly scared face had a softness to it, and he had put a hand on Regis’s shoulder again. “A higher vampire though, this is incredible. This is the one you were blabbering on about that night when you were drunk!”

Geralt felt his ears burn and he eyed Eskel who instantly snapped his mouth shut.

“A story for another time.” Rumbled Letho.

“We need a place to go to regroup that is not out in the open.” Berengar said his deep voice startling Geralt like it did the first time he had met the man. Berengar was the shortest of the group of men, he had high cheekbones and full lips, and the slightly pointed ears of a half elf. He had a small scar across his lip and had acquired a new one that raked from his nose to the bottom side of his jaw.

“Well I for one am starving.” Lambert groused. “Lets go find some food before we are recalled back to the palace for more errands. Geralt, this is your home turf, is there a place that can both fit us and feed us, I have a hankering for a cheep red.”

“Forgive me for this, but, I feel rather like a sheep among wolves.” Regis looking over at Geralt. “It took me nearly twenty years to introduce myself to my first witcher. Having a pack of them surrounding me is both extremely fascinating and disconcerting. I don’t know which to feel and it’s making things awkward.”

“We are the epitome of awkward.” Lambert shot back. “So you are in fine company. Hell Geralt is about the most awkward of us. He was the one that decided it would be great to steal Yennifer’s clothes, and wear them. ” 

“Not the time Lambert.” Geralt Growled.

“Geralt, it is always the time.” Lambert grinned. 

“You know I think I may know a place where we can find refreshments.” Regis said his mood lightened by the banter. “Follow me.”

“If anyone would have told me yesterday I would be following a higher vampire to lunch I would have turned them in to St Lebioda’s hospital for wayward souls.” Eskel said studying Regis as they walked. Geralt groaned and sidled up next to Regis.

“Look, I am going to be blunt, they are curious.” Geralt said talking below a whisper.

“As I would expect.” Regis said eyeing Geralt his own answer almost lost on the wind. “Ease your mind friend. The sudden appearance of the Elder, and your kin, has given me a splendid idea. I will warn you though. I will answer all of their questions, even ones you have not thought to ask me. And ones that you have asked me and I have danced around. The Elder is sticking his nose in where he shouldn’t, and while I would love to believe that his appearance today wasn’t planned, the mere fact that he is here is cause for concern.”

“Giving away state secrets to the enemy?” Geralt smirked a giddiness filling him.

“More like giving a report to allies while acting as a spy.” Regis smirked a hint of fang visible.

The sight of one witcher was usually cause enough for people to pause and look, and whisper. The sight of five hell bent on getting to where they were going, being lead by a dark haired middle aged man with a Barber surgeon’s kit strapped to his back and an apocathary’s satchel on his front was down right intimidating. Regis took them through the city a short walk to the Lassommoir district. There he lead them into a small tavern. 

“Geralt!” the tavern popriater said, then was momentarily confused. “And… friends?”

“Hey Hugo.” Geralt said giving the man a handshake and a pat on the back. “Yes friends. We need a room, and food. My tab, and before you say on the house, you know how much I eat. These are my friends, and fellow witchers. Some of which can out eat me by a long shot. And by room I mean private, with enough room to move so we aren’t elbowing each other while we eat.”

“As you say.” Hugo said warily glancing at all the men. “Follow me. I would say you would scare the patrons, but the way they have been running the witchers these past few days, I think everyone has grown at least a little accustom to them. We are short staffed. Lucien and Augustus both caught the plague. I missed out, so I got the shot to make me immune. They are recovering and should be back with us in a week tops.”

He lead them down a set of stairs into the basement, and then finally into a room that was lined with dark torches. Wine surrounded them on all sides, and a beautiful oak table sat in the middle with several chairs.

“Here let me light the torches so you can see.” Hugo said.

“No need.” Letho snapped his fingers and the torches lit. They were momentarily green before flicking to the usual amber yellow. All eyes turned to him.

“Hey that wasn’t me!” He protested putting up his hands. 

“That was us.” Hugo said blinking at the show of magic. “We have been grinding copper pipe and stills down here. This room is rarely used, must have had some dust built up. Let me go get you drink. Any requests?”

Geralt wove his way around the witchers as they suddenly burst into discussion about what they wanted, and why they wanted it leaving Hugo overwhelmed and highly involved. Regis had taken a seat and Geralt moved to sit beside him. After hugo had darted out of the room with promises to bring drink and a meat and cheese tray the other witchers settled themselves.

“First thing is first.” Geralt said once all eyes were on him. “This whole plague thing goes deeper then even I can fathom. I had Lambert call you here for two reasons, and you can relay them to the others at your discursion. One, we are the only group of people on the planet truly immune to the plague. This is ground Zero, but there are likely to be other places that are hit as time passes. The second is of course more complicated.”

“Kiera and Yennifer said it had something to do with vampires?” Lambert said. “I mean it obviously does if you are toting one around, which I may add is making me highly uncomfortable.”

“What can I do to ease that fear.” Regis said opening his arms. “At this point I am well on my way to being an Anathema of my kind, I may as well go for broke. Gentleman, I am Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, I was born in 840 here in Toussaint. Yes, born. Not made. Born. We will start there. What you know and most what you have learned about our kind, is false, or misinformed, and I am here to rectify that. I am an open book, all you need but do is ask.”

“Do you really make a habit out of collecting all of the outcasts and befriending them Geralt?” Berengar’s voice broke through the stupefied silence.

“Not intentionally, but yes.” Geralt said shrugging. “At least in the past twenty years or so. I am a magnet for them.”

Eskle sat up and smoothed his hair back and took a deep breath.

“Can I just, look at you?” Eskel said. “I mean, study your features. Whatever. You really mean us no harm?”

“I mean you no harm, but by your associations with Geralt, and your profession I can not guarantee, that you wont come to harm.” Regis said sighing. “what would you like to see?”

“Teeth.” Letho growled but his eyes wide and curious.

Geralt groaned for Regis in embarrassment, though at one time he had asked to see the same thing. Regis chuckled and smiled. A real smile. Normally the vampire hid is teeth, creating a tight lipped half smile that was endearing, but also spoke volumes of how much he was constantly aware of his otherness. This was one that Geralt had only seen rarely, and a little ache settled into his chest. 

All of the witchers leaned forwards and Regis opened his mouth slightly and pulled his lip up. Geralt couldn’t help looking too. Regis let his lip fall and licked his lips. There was a murmur of awe in the room.

A dirty thought crossed Geralt’s mind, and instantly all eyes were on him. Geralt groaned and sunk back into his seat.

“Don’t mind me.” He said knowing full well that everyone in the room knew his exact mental state. Another problem with being around fellow witchers. 

“And there he goes.” Lambert said rolling his eyes. “He lasted for… oh five minutes.”

“Technically about fifteen, we had that long walk here.” Eskel said as him and lambert shared a glance.

“Not fair.” Geralt grumbled schooling his reaction and gaining control of his body. “You have Keira, and Eskle has… li….”

“Don’t you dare say it.” Eskel was up and leering across the table at Geralt. “You say it and that vampire friend of yours will be slurping you up off the floor.”

Letho and Berangar began laughing.

“Low blow man, low blow.” Lambert said wincing. “But yes I do have Keira.”

Regis laughed this time. 

“Seems as though you guys would rather catch up then interrogate me.” Regis said sitting back down. 

“No!” Eskel slammed his fist on the table and glared daggers at Geralt. “Your forms. You have several yes?”

“Yes.” Regis said steepling his fingers.

“How many?” Eskel asked sitting back down his shoulders still tense and his eyes glowing now that his ire was up. 

“Technically infinite as I can vary them minutely depending on what I need.” Regis said thoughtfully. “I do have five forms I can readily access with instinct. I have the form you see before you, which is my chosen base form. I will always revert back to this form eventually. I have my vampiric form, which is what I use when my blood is up, it’s the most common one you witchers are likely to see. Long claws, teeth, ears. In my case I get spots. That run from the back of my ears and around the front of my chest and down to my groin. My nose flattens and widens, and the nostrils are further apart. An adaptive trait that allows me to smell better. Not only smell better, but I can directly infer direction depending on which nostril gets the most scent. Also my toes separate and my big toe can act as a thumb. Good for gripping. It has a physiological effect too. My instincts are closer to the surface with this one then all my forms but one. It’s like the Crossroads of my forms.”

“Can you show us?” Eskel asked his eyes wide. 

Geralt’s eyes widened as Regis shifted without preamble. Before him was a form he had seen rarely. Most recently while hunting for Syanna. Regis regarded Eskel from his seat, his eyes black and piercing. 

“holy shit.” Letho hissed. “You mean to tell me that you, who could literally tear us limb from limb right now without blinking, were afraid of that bald man in the apothecary’s shop?”

“Very much so.” Regis said the undertones of this form making his voice deeper. “He is an elder of my race. Getting to be an elder is no easy task. Surviving is a big part of it, and on our home world, at least according to legend, it was nearly impossible to survive. Though how much of that I believe at this point is up in the air, especially given the ruins which had all the marks of a civilized society. Needless to say but he needed to fight for his post and prove himself to keep it. I am a mere child in comparison to him. His power compared to mine is immense and I speak first hand as I have been on the receiving end of it.”

Regis bared his teeth and hissed at the end of the sentence, a string of words in vampire coming out with venom. Geralt reached over and touched his shoulder softly and Regis relaxed a high pitched chittering trill escaping through his throat. He dropped back into human form just as Hugo entered with drinks and the plate of food. 

The witchers descended on it like a pack of Ravenous wolves, which Geralt would note, they were technically, with one snake, and one bat. 

“Do you need to drink one of us?” Lambert asked as Regis was mid reach into the fray to grab something before there was nothing left. 

“Good heaven’s no.” Regis said wrinkling his nose and grabbing some cured ham and sharp cheddar cheese. 

“Why?” Berengar asked through a bite. “The Bruxa Geralt and I ran into when we first met sure as hell weren’t picky.”

“Not a matter of being picky so much as being abstinent.” Regis said popping the cheese into his mouth and chewing. “Personal choice on my behalf. I do not partake in blood if I can help it. I was an addict in my youth, not something I would like to return to if it can be helped.”

“Addict?” Lambert said setting down his mug of ale. “Vampires can be addicts?”

“Truth be told blood is not needed to sustain our existence.” Regis shrugged and took a sip of some watered wine. “We need food and water just like anything else. However without blood we can not sustain our existence.”

“Contradicted yourself.” Letho said chewing and looking over at the vampire.

“We do not need blood to live.” Regis said thoughtfully as he reached for a few more bites. “However without it we age. Slowly compared to humans, but we do. Eventually we age to the point where something internally fails, and our magic dissipates and we no longer can sustain our physical forms. Then eventually we can’t even keep our immaterial forms together, and what happens beyond that is best left to our philosophers.”

“So you personally do not partake, why?” Eskel asked, more fascinated by the minute. 

“The reason I normally give is because I was an addict, it overtook my life, and thousands of people died by my hand. Truth be told that wasn’t the core reason though.” Regis said looking over at Geralt and wincing. “I was an addict yes, It took over my life. Human blood you see is a narcotic to us. Something with great potential to be abused. I met a lovely female higher vampire who was young like I was, and she joined our merry band of trouble makers. We fell in love, and we became mates. I found out that she had joined our group just because of her interest in me. When I understood where she stood she withdrew from most of our rabble rousing but still stood by my side. When I started to ignore her and flee her, and cut myself off from her, to seek out blood on my own, or with my friends, she was rightfully distraught. I attempted to save our failing relationship by telling her I would taper off and quit and we would apply to have a child. 

“What I told her and what I did are two completely different things. I kept drinking. Something that the elder had been keeping track of. He denied our application, and revealed to her that I was still partaking in amounts much more so then was necessary. She broke the bond then and there. I took it as another reason to drink. I fell out of the original crowd we were with as they settled down and started to get families of their own going, and I joined a much darker group of individuals. My time with them is broken, and horribly out of order as most of the time we were higher then kites. I do remember one night I was tasked with going out to hunt. It was a full moon and I should have been at my prime, however I had partaken less then an hour before I was to go out. I was drunk. I wound up attempting to attack the first maiden I saw to bring her back but I missed, horribly, and ran head first into the village well and knocked myself out.”

“The villagers cut me, and rended me from end to end buried me. It took me many years to regenerate myself, and even more to finally trust myself to come out of the ground without killing everything in sight, which I had decided I was going to not do. It should have only a year tops. In my want to imbibe human blood, I had neglected all else, which had a very profound effect on my healing. I also went through withdrawals, which were terrible, even more so when your body is detached from itself. In the end I had to dethatch myself from all of my bonds so I didn’t feel the blood lust of others around me and fail in my task.”

“When I finally made it out, I had a friend waiting for me. Another vampire who had heard of my separation from my tribe while I had gone to ground. He never told me his name, and I never asked. And even though he was my friend, I was unable to form a packbond with him he was so locked down. However what he was, is what I now call myself. A Humanist. When I came out I had a lot of anger, and a lot of misgivings about human kind. He helped me fight my cravings, and when I gave in because the pull was too strong, he was there to pick up the pieces. He gave me coping mechanisms , and tricks I use to this day to help me fight off the cravings.”

“Aside from that he began to show me human culture, and learning. He was, not ironically, a professor of anthropology at Oxenfort. He was a teacher by trade, and he exposed me to human culture through that place. I became a student of humanity. Then I became a student of alchemical medicine. Further I studied to become a surgeon, however, I never finished the job as one has to perform surgery with mirrors. I was able to avoid them up to that point, but I couldn’t risk being discovered. So I finally had to drop out.”

“That explains your accent.” Geralt said his eyes wide. 

“Yes, and a great many other things. I never changed my name so you can actually go to Oxenfurt, pull the records, and find my name and my accolades.”

“What happened to the humanist?” All of the witchers were rapt on the story. 

“I saw him meeting with a witcher one day.” Regis said his eyes sad. “and I don’t mean meeting in the traditional sense. They were having an argument. The witcher knew what he was because he had his claws out and was attempting hard to control himself. I was spying. He wasn’t in ire over the witcher, but over himself. The witcher made no attempt to draw his sword at him, so hid my presence and kept to the shadows. They spoke in hushed tones, and I could not hear what was said fully, but the witcher was attempting to convince him not to go somewhere.”

“Eventually their arguing turned to grief and they sought comfort in one another, and I withdrew. I still didn’t know what was going on so I was pensive and I waited. I was approached by the Humanist the next day. He told me he was leaving, and that we had to find our separate paths. I told him I knew and the sad look that broke over him about broke me. This vampire by all rights was my best friend. I asked if I ever would see him again. He said that his path was quickly coming to an end, but that he hopped that one day we could be reunited with one another when the time was right. He left. And then Oxenfort held to many memories, so I left.”

“And that’s why I do not drink, unless absolutely necessary. His memory, my fight with addiction, and my learning and fondness of humans. I have only partaken twice in the past century. Once when I was rescuing Ciri from Vilgefortz lab, and once again, and not even human blood, to help Geralt find the beast of Beauclair.”

Somewhere in the middle of the story stew had been brought in. Fresh fish stew with bits of rice and a rich buttery broth. 

“Forgive me I need a moment to recover, it has been a long time since I have told that story so toughly.” Regis said finally eating his soup as the witchers looked down quietly.

“I want to know who that witcher was.” Berengar said suddenly breaking the silence. “What school he was from.”

There was a general murmur of agreement from the other witchers as they ate in silence. Geralt for his part was feeling anger. Regis had given him bits an pieces of the story over the years, but he was missing the glue that held it together. His gut feeling was that this witcher was the cause of the Humanists disappearance. It had been a steady pull before to return to Kaer Morhen, but now Geralt knew he had to return. The mystery of the vampire and the witcher was never mentioned at his school, and something like that would have been prime story fodder. Regis finished his stew and sat back happily.

“Ah there we go.” Regis said patting his stomch. “Now, getting away from my personal life, which I am well aware is riveting, lets move to practical matters. Geralt and I will be leaving soon back for Corvo Bianco so we can pack to leave for Metena tomorrow morning.”

“We can’t kill higher vampires according to you, what can we do to at least disable them, so we can run away.” Lambert said picking something out from between his teeth. 

“Silver can sometimes work.” Regis said causing the witchers to sit up. “It will always work on my lesser kin. Unlike holy texts and the like, we can actually have a genuine allergic reaction to silver. It works like anaphylaxis in humans. It can and will kill lesser kin who can not rid their body of it, but it does so slowly and agonizingly. There is one sure way to disable us though.”

Regis procured the small marble he had taken from Geralt when he stitched his neck from his bag and rolled it across the table to lambert. Geralt’s eyes narrowed but he said nothing.

“That is a mineral metal that comes from my home world.” Regis said his eyes serious. “Should you find more, or know of where more is all you have to do is create a band, a single cuff, it will revert us to our chosen ‘home’ form and diminishes the magic we can perform nearly completely from regeneration, to misting. However as a rule, if we can cut it off to get away we will so the best idea is to cut your losses and high tail it out of there. There is a single place that does actively have bits of it laying around. The Tesham Mutna ruins here in Toussaint. You could also technically create a moon dust bomb with flecks of it in it as well, though I am not sure how that would effect us besides being annoying.”

The witchers nodded as the marble was passed from hand to hand.

“I notice that you are awfully quiet Geralt.” Berngar said. “guessing that you had time before this to learn?”

“Yes and no. Regis and I had experience with at least part of this last year when we had to go to Tesham Mutna to get an ingredient for a potion.” Geralt said a pulse of memory gripping him as he attempted to school is features and reactions once again. This time the witchers didn’t acknowledge the change in his state. Regis did however with just a small look and a narrowing of his eyes. Geralt bit the inside of his cheek and said nothing.

“Will we have a chance to speak to you more?” Eskel said standing. “We have been missing for a bit now and I am sure the palace is in an uproar.” 

“Any time I am available I am at your disposal.” Regis said with a nod. “You are likely to find me with Geralt as it seems our paths are intertwined.”

“There is one other thing.” Geralt said standing as well. “This contract we are on is serious. We need to keep up the impression of being in places we are not. Eskel, after we leave tomorrow, use my name. Don’t stop till we get back. Tell the others to refer to you as Geralt as well. As simple as it is it’s likely to sow confusion to anyone trying to track our movements.”

“Till tomorrow Gentleman.” Regis said then turned into a puff of mist, startling the witchers. He rotated around the room a few times before exiting out the door.

Geralt groaned. “Really Regis, really?”

“Well if we didn’t believe him before that right there is about all the solid proof you need.” Berengar said. 

Eskel came up and clapped Geralt on the back. “It looks like you have your hands full with him. No hard feelings.”

“Yes I do… and I am sorry. I know that’s a tender subject.” Geralt said referring to his quip earlier. 

“Yeah well, old wounds and all that.” Eskel said. “Keep care of yourself, we will hold down the fort here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAN I LOVE THE WOLF BOYS
> 
> and their snake
> 
> who deserves all the snoot boops
> 
> I Have a very set idea on how dynamics work amongst the witchers so yeah XD FUN TIMES...


	16. Inevitable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Regis return to Corvo Bianco to prepare for the trip to Dillingen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always... no Beta... if you see something say something.
> 
> Translation notes at the end!

After the meeting of witchers, Geralt caught back up to Regis who was waiting by the horses with a grin. When they returned to Corvo Bianco the sun was low in the sky. There would be time to talk about what had happened today on the trip to Dillingen which was at least two days ride with the roads clear. Both the Witcher and the vampire went to the lab and left the horses to the stable hand. Geralt for his part got out his potions box and restocked it with the best he had in his collection. He also loaded his own apothecary’s satchel with various oils and ingredients that he may need to make on the road. Now that they were truly on their way, Geralt was meticulous to the letter. 

After organizing and packing his oils and potions, he packed a first aid kit for himself, and then he went to his workshop to put together an armor repair kit that he could use on the road should his armor be compromised. He was wearing his high necked well armored ursine gear for this trip. It served two purposes. One it protected his neck, and two it provided warmth with it’s quilted wool backing. There was a chill to the air as the sun set. Enough to set dew on the ground fairly early. That meant in the mountain passes it was likely getting cold enough for the first frosts to form on the highest passes. 

As Geralt finished packing some other necessities, Clean clothes and the like. Then he raided the larder to collect food items that could travel easy and last for a while. He also collected a small menagerie of spices, so he could hunt and fish while on the road. Satisfied he had everything he needed, he packed his saddlebags, his own satchels and set them by the door. By the time he was finished Regis had wandered up as had Barnabus. They shared a meal together, then Geralt went outside.

He knew he was going to be unable to sleep. There was to much information running through his head at the moment, and it was creating a jumble that he couldn’t make heads or tails of.

When he kneeled on the ground in front of the house he breathed in and out in a steady rhythm willing his thoughts into order. Thoughts about the hunt ahead flooded his mind. Primarily the unknown that lay at the end of the path. From what the Bruxa had told them, there would likely be more lesser vampires as well as one sorceress at the end of the path. Geralt had packed accordingly, but this was his first real venture back into witchering in a year.

To top it off he had the added mental confusion bonus of Regis. Judging from his reactions around the vampire he knew they were slipping down a slippery slope. Doubts had begun to plague him in that regard, and a slithering fear that if he acted on his feelings towards the vampire, that Regis would reject him. That thought made his chest tight and his stomach sink. 

He was snapped out of his mindful meditation when Regis sat down next to him on the ground. He frowned without opening his eyes. Resolve flooded through him and he opened them to see Regis leaning back on his arms staring up at the moon which was waning and soon to go dark. The vampire sighed happily to himself and Geralt took in the sight of him. He had his traveling leathers on, though his bags were nowhere to be seen. His black hair was catching the light of the moon, the black looking blue, and the silver looking white. 

“Regis.” Geralt said tightening his hands into fists. 

“Yes Geralt?” Regis said without taking his eyes off the moon.

“I would like to formally join your pack if I am able to.” Geralt said forcing his voice out despite the nervousness. 

Regis about fell backwards as one elbow locked. He quickly sat up and looked at Geralt with wide eyes. Geralt forced himself to maintain eye contact with the vampire. Suddenly his heart was beating to fast for his liking and he felt his ears heat up. He looked at Regis who was dead silent. And expression began to filter across his face that made Geralt’s heart sing. 

“I…. we, we would be honored.” Regis said his voice breathless and his eyes full of hope. 

Geralt felt some of the tension he had been feeling ease in his chest and he let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. 

“There are some ground rules, however.” Regis’s said sitting up straighter. “You and I have a partial pack bond already. Both you and I can sense and send vague notions of what we are feeling. You did so aptly while we were interviewing Anna. When we solidify this, those higher feelings, ones of hunger, discomfort, contentment and tiredness will be broadcast. Both myself and Dettlaff will be able to access them at will barring blocking us off. Once you get control of it you will be able to block one, or both of us off if necessary. Dettlaff and I share a blood bond, we are able to access much more emotion from one another, but you will begin to feel little hints of it and know when we are communicating. One thing about this. Should you go into battle you need to cut it off, because no matter how assured anyone is of their success, you will broadcast the need for assistance, even if it’s not something you want to broadcast.”

Geralt nodded and looked over to Regis. 

“I am guessing if I am in need of assistance all I have to do is throw it open again.” Geralt said causing Regis to nod. “I have no idea how to control it though. I can control my own ability to have my mind read magically, is it similar?”

“I don’t honestly know.” Regis said raising a brow. “And if we are to be frank, which is another boon of the bond, Your ability to block magical manipulation of yourself is rather miserable. Yennefer doesn’t even have to strain to glean your thoughts, and Fringilla Vigo was able to charm you with a shake of her breasts, and an accidental hit on one of your kinks.”

“Kinks?” Geralt said suddenly confused. 

“Your unsung love of literature and reading.” Regis said grinning. “The first thing you do when you walk into anywhere is immediately beeline for a bookshelf. Then while you talk, barter, or whatever have you, you are pouring over the titles. And occasionally if you run into one you have never seen before, you ask about it, always. It never fails. When we have walked into libraries, small personal ones, or large city ones, you always pause for a moment, and take a deep breath in. Fringilla did her research well and knew where to pounce on you. I bet as you made a mess of that libraries neatly disorganized books, you also noted each and every one that came into contact with you, title and author.”

Geralt felt his face go red and his eyes widen.

“That’s one of the things we are both going to have to get used to. I am being blunt now on purpose.” Regis said his face serious. “When we have the bond, it will make lying an impossibility.”

“ok then before we do this, I want to know, for my own peace of mind, and so I don’t worry you to death about it, what is your relationship with Dettlaff.” Geralt said wincing as the familyar jealousy peaked it’s head up. “I want to know so I am not caught off guard.” 

“We are blood brothers.” Regis said tiling his head the slightest bit of annoyance carrying in his voice. “I have said this several times before.”

“Well apparently I am thick, or my version of that had connotations that yours doesn’t.” Geralt said. “Eskle and lambert are my blood brothers, as we have spilled blood for one another on more then one occasion. Your’s involves a physical bond, while ours is a bond of comradery.”

“Can I ask you something?” Regis said regarding Geralt as he trailed off and attempted to formulate words. “Have you been physical with them before. Sought out their companionship phisically, and they you?”

“Yes.” Geralt blurted closing his eyes a small amount of shame making itself color his cheeks. “It was one of the things that happened naturally as we grew up with one another. Bunch of boys with Super Human hormones running through their systems, some knew what girls were, others had no clue. We would seek each other out constantly. When we were growing up there was no shame in it. It was a natural part of things. As we have gotten older and the world was opened to us the need to seek one another for release eased. However every time we return to Kaer Morhen we seek one another out again.”

It was Regis’s turn to blush and shift uncomfortably. 

“It’s hard to explain it.” Geralt said reaching up and fiddling with his amulet. “it’s instinctual, and not something I have really had to explain before. I remember the first time I brought Yen to Kaer Morhen. It had actually lead to one of our biggest blowups.”

“Because you sought out the others?” Regis said his attention rapt. 

“No, because she couldn’t participate.” Geralt said grinning and shaking his head. “There is more to it then that. Just adding a random person into the mix wouldn’t work because they wouldn’t be able to understand the nuances of what was happening. Hell half the time we were so worked up especially when the big groups came, that it’s a wonder we were able to read eachother.”

“That’s where the comment from earlier about lambert came from then.” Regis said grinning slyly. “You are very receptive and easy to key up when you are in the presence of the others.”

“Lambert and Eskel man,” Geralt said shaking his head and thinking fondly on the two men. “Those two I grew up with, Eskel was my bunkmate, we were closer then most. Lambert came along and was one of the last groups of boys to survive before we were sacked. We treated him like a little brother. His life before he came to Kaer Morhen was rough, and he was given up because Vesemir was annoyed at a man who couldn’t pay him for his services. They know my buttons, and they know how to jump on me ”

“Needless to say we are close.” Geralt said smiling fondly.

“The act of blood drinking amongst our own spieces has a sexual overtone, always has and always will.” Regis said watching as Geralt looked down to his hands. “On our planet, what we used to sustain ourselves was neutral. Didn’t really do anything other then be a nutritionally complete composite that allowed us to keep living. However it wasn’t always readily available. Some times when deep friendships would form, we were able to share each others blood, to help us through hard times. Our blood has the same narcotic effect human blood does. And there is our venom, Bruxa have the closest thing to what we have but it is still a pale comparison to what ours can do.”

“I have ran into vampire venom before.” Geralt said grumbling. “I got snagged by some Bruxa. They used it to take advantage of me.” 

“As is their proclivity.” Regis nodded sagely. “Ours however is more. More focused, and more concentrated. Generally it acts like an aphrodisiac, however if we pump enough in someone it has an effect that serves us well. It thins the blood and causes involuntary muscle spasms in the soft tissue. Which means the heart keeps pumping until the venom looses it’s toxicity. It can keep the heart pumping even after organ failure or brain death. But back to what I was discussing. The act of taking blood from another vampire is erotic in nature because we can not prevent the venom from flowing when we bite down.”

Geralt felt himself tensing despite his best efforts to school his reaction. 

“That being said, I see a lot of parallels between your witcher proclivities, and our vampire blood bonds.” Regis said causing Geralt to pause. “You consider your witcher clan blood brothers. You have a physical relationship with them, but not an intimate one. Much the same can be said for the blood bond Dettlaff and I share. When we share our blood between us we get sexual pleasure from it to be blunt. But we have no predilection to consider it more then just a pleasant release.”

Geralt felt an ember of hope light in his heart. 

“So blood brothers.” Geralt said understanding settling in his mind. 

“Exactly!” Regis said grinning. 

“So how do we do this.” Geralt said relaxing his shoulders and feeling somewhat giddy. 

Regis stood and walked in front of Geralt and kneeled much like he was doing. Geralt could feel his heart beats start picking up as the excitement of the unknown filtered through his system.

“Lean forward.” Regis said. 

Geralt leaned forward quickly, and a resounding thud and a sparkle of light across his vision made him pull back. Regis laughed and Geralt looked up. The vampire was holding his head. 

“This time… slowly… and look where you are going. Zeal is appreciated in these matters, though caution more so.” Regis said fondly.

“sorry.” Geralt mumbled heat flashing through to his face. This time he leaned forward slowly and Regis pulled him forward so their foreheads were resting against one another. Geralt felt heat rush through him as Regis’s breath puffed across his face. 

“Place your hands on my head near the base of my ears cupping the back of my head.” Regis said his eyes finding Geralt’s. Geralt couldn’t school his reaction and felt his pupils blow wide and his stomach drop out. Heat began to pool in his groin. Geralt attempted to pull back but Regis held him fast. 

“Sorry, can’t help it.” Geralt breathed his stomach twisting. 

“mmmm this next part should help.” Regis grumbled his voice echoing with the overtones Geralt remembered from Tesham Mutna. The scent of rain enveloped him, and Geralt could feel himself shaking with the effort of holding himself back. He felt Regis tense. 

The Vampires eyes flashed black and his countenance changed. Geralt could feel an uncomfortable pressure beginning in his head. A single pinprick in a part of his mind he hadn’t been made aware of. 

“Repeat after me” Regis said the pressure increasing. “And relax Geralt, you want this, let us in.” 

Geralt groaned unable now to rip his eyes away from Regis’s. He let go of the last of his trepidation and the pressure changed from uncomfortable to warm. He gasped as his body attempted to lean into the pressure. 

“Suntem împreună în acest lucru ca un întreg.” The words rolled out of Regis’s mouth with a hiss, his voice taking on the deeper tones from when he shifted. Geralt felt magic whip around him even though his amulet stood still. 

“Suntem împreună…. în acest lucru… ca un întreg.” Geralt ground out the pressure increasing and creating an ache throughout him he couldn’t do anything to cure. He ground himself by focusing on his hands cupped around Regis’s head, and Regis’s cupped around his. 

“Suntem în această împreună ca o familie.” Regis breathed. Geralt could hear Regis’s heart pumping quickly, and a shudder begin in his muscles.

“Suntem în această împreună ca o familie.” Geralt roared out, feeling the the weight of the words with his soul. The pressure increased and Geralt pushed against it.

“Până când vom alege diferite căi.” Regis’s voice began to increase fervor spiking his words.

“Până când… vom…. Alege…. diferite căi!” Geralt could see it now, in the center of his vision light coming from Regis. His eyes darted, he could see another light, dimmer, in the distance.

“Pentru totdeauna legat.” The words were said with a finality that brought Geralt back. 

“Pentru totdeauna legat….” Geralt felt his muscles wrench as something inside his mind popped. That buzz that had been following him around for the past days suddenly cleared. Acceptance washed over him, in such a wave that it was overwhelming, he felt his body convulse, and Regis called out. Pleasure roared through him and he reeled backwards taking Regis with him. Geralt arched his spine as the wave finally crested and his vision cleared. He could feel instantly that the two others now bound to him were also recovering from the wave. 

When his vision finally cleared Regis was leaning over him his breath coming in panting gasps. The vampire’s eyes were screwed shut. He reached up and touched the vampire’s face as what he now knew was Regis’s personal current state filtered through his mind. Safety, security, and contentedness rolled through Geralt. Reaching out he could feel the other presence contentedness and the need to rest filled the other side of the bond. It was dimmer compared to Regis’s, more distant. Regis leaned into the touch. 

“That… was more…Intense…. Then I expected it to be.” Regis said as the vampire, with his eyes still closed sat back on his knees and shuddered.

Geralt could feel the damp stickiness coating his under clothes. He was suddenly extremely uncomfortable, and shame washed through him. Regis’s eyes snapped open.

“I can not tell what is bothering you directly.” Regis said his voice hesitant. “Does… does this displease you? All it takes is a word and it’s gone.” 

Geralt could feel the melancholy washing over him from Regis. 

“Gods no, please.” Geralt said suddenly fearing that what little he now had would be taken away. “ Please, I am…”

Geralt wrestled with the words. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before giving up and just being blunt. 

“I… came Regis.” Geralt said his face burning with the memory. 

“As did I.” Regis said, discomfort washing over him too. 

There was a sudden cheerful contentedness that washed over Geralt from the other end of the bond. Regis laughed.

“He spoke didn’t he?” Geralt said eyes widing. 

“In our way yes.” Regis said “Right now what we have is high level. Surface feelings, with no nuance. What Dettlaff and I share goes deeper. Concepts and full conversations can be had if you learn to manipulate them. He said he has no need to clean himself up as he was hanging upside-down in his monstrous form, and that he is going back to bed.”

“Asshole.” Geralt spoke before he could control his mouth. Regis laughed. 

“Why did we… you know.” Geralt said pulling on his mutations to stem the flow of blood away from his groin so he wouldn’t wind up making an idiot out of himself. 

“I… Honestly don’t know.” Regis said his eyes going wide with thought. 

“How can we turn it off temporarily.” Geralt said finally finding the strength to lean up on his elbows. His swords pulled at his chest awkwardly and he finally had to roll over. He landed on his stomach with a huff, the armor feeling much more heavy then it had when he started. He gave up and laid there. He felt a wave of sadness wash over the bond.

“No Regis… no… not like that. Look… I… well.” Geralt could feel his own embarrassment leaking through the bond. “I can’t control it.” 

“Can’t control what?” Regis said confusion washing over his features as Geralt looked at him from the ground. He sighed and a puff of dust flew away from his mouth. 

“Never have been able to fully control my bodily reactions.” Geralt said. “Ever, no matter how many times they tried to beat it out of me.” 

Realization dawned on Regis’s face. 

“And that’s why they were teasing you earlier.” Regis said a smile sneaking it’s way across his face.

“It happens over the stupidest shit too.” Geralt huffed pushing himself upwards with his hands. 

“Oh look a pretty lady… Oh look, a well crafted wheelbarrow.” Geralt groused. “Oh that smell! Perogies! Oh look… that turtle is sunning itself on the rock! That man’s shoes are somewhat tied and he smells like a barrel of pig shit.”

Regis was laughing. Geralt felt himself smiling too. 

“Honestly, when I should be turned on by something, I am so turned on I can barely think to do anything else but rut whatever thing is nearest and least breakable.” Geralt grumbled. “And when I shouldn’t be turned on and I am, I just kinda curse at myself and make due and ignore it. So yes, to tell the truth I am extremely tepid about opening myself up so fully right away, as the feedback you are likely to get.”

“Well then you are in luck, because the bond right now doesn’t broadcast that.” Regis said smiling as Geralt’s cheeks went red. “I have known about your issues for years now. Traveling with you and all that. And my nose is just as sensitive, if not more so then yours. Your secrets safe with me, and I would never be so crass as to point it out.”

Geralt moaned in mortification.

“So that whole thing I just said…” Geralt hissed.

“Likely didn’t need to be said, though it was amusing to hear you state it out loud.” Regis grinned. 

Geralt felt a contentedness sweep through him and he leaned into it sending his own contentedness back. He stood up and Regis regarded him with an arched eyebrow.

“Going to change my breeches.” Geralt said. “It’ll start chafing if I don’t.”

It only took him a few minutes to return. Regis was where he had left him, again staring at the moon.

Geralt again sat on his knees. His mind felt more settled then it had in a while and he finally felt like he could let go and just slide into thoughtlessness. A soft voice interrupted him.

“Geralt, thank you for what you did, and what you are doing.” Regis said quietly. “I have wanted this for so long for us I can’t even begin to tell you how happy this makes me.”

“If you ever want anything of me Regis all you need to do is ask.” Geralt said just as softly.

Regis hummed. And Geralt let the contentedness wash over him and help lull him into a deep meditative state.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH LOOK. Pack bond
> 
> OH LOOK. It was accidentally more intense then normal.
> 
> OH LOOK. They are still fucking potatoes... though becoming more content potatoes as time goes on.
> 
> Dettlaff is a Jerk, even when he is injured.
> 
> I forgot what the hell language I used. I think it's romanian... and I tried my best to get it right though I probably botched it. 
> 
> "Suntem împreună în acest lucru ca un întreg
> 
> We are together in this as a whole
> 
> Suntem în această împreună ca o familie
> 
> We are in this together as a family
> 
> Până când vom alege diferite căi
> 
> Until we choose different paths.


	17. New friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Regis and Geralt begin their journey to Dillingen, they meet a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long Chapter is long!!
> 
> one of my OC's that I love to bits is introduced. Several of my favorite lines appear in this chapter.
> 
> as usual no Beta... if you see something say something!

Geralt snapped his eyes open. He had sensed Regis leaving his side sometime during the night to go resume work in the alchemy lab. The cool wind that blew as the sky began to show the barest hints of dawn rustled through Geralt’s hair. Today was the day they left for Dillingen. Geralt took a moment to untie his hair and re-tie it catching the loose stands and smoothing it to his head. He stood shaking the stiffness from his sore knee and took a deep breath in. 

He whistled and a call went up.

He darted back into the house and grabbed a bite to eat from what was left in the kitchen, and gathered up a few items to bring to Regis.

Movement had already started. The stable hand Kirin was running to the house roused from his spot at the stables to grab the saddlebags Geralt had packed. They nodded to one another as Geralt passed. Geralt quickly tested the bond and felt Regis content, and Dettlaff still sleeping. The content that Geralt felt must not have extended very far because Regis looked anything but. He was frazzled when Geralt found him at the alchemy lab. 

“Hungry?” Geralt asked watching as Regis came back to himself. “Thinking is always easier on at least a satisfied stomach.”

Regis huffed. Geralt finally got a better look at what he was making. He was trying to set up a distiller. 

“What’s wrong with it.” Geralt asked as he took a bite of one of the first seasonal apples from the small orchard on his land. It was so sweet it about made him melt. 

“Nothing and everything it seems.” Regis said taking a pastry and sticking it into his mouth before attempting whatever it was he was trying to do. The pipe was loose. 

“You need cork.” Geralt said looking at the small pipe. “Also why are you broadcasting content, you seem anything but.”

“Nothing makes me more conthent Geralth,” Regis spoke around the pastry in his mouth. “Then attempthing to solve untholveable probelmth.”

Geralt pursed his lips and eyed the vampire. Without preamble he walked over to his wall of tools for the lab and pulled a piece of cork out. He put it in front of Regis’s face. Regis’s eyes lit up and he snatched it out of Geralt’s hands with vampiric speed. 

“Where did you find this?” Regis said finally taking a bite of the pastry and setting it down. Regis pulled the pipe apart measured it, then used his claws to cut the piece of cork to size.

“You see that shelf over there?” Geralt pointed. 

“Of course I looked over there.” Regis said and fitted the cork on the pipe. 

“It’s in the drawer labeled ‘cork’” Geralt said dryly the hint of a smile plastering his face. 

Regis huffed and looked over the shelf. 

“So it does.” He said refocusing on the pipe and getting it seated right. “You know the saying… blind as a… FINALLY.”

The pipe slid back into place. Regis quickly doused it in piping glue and put some metal foil over the connection smoothing it down.

He then Greedily ate the pastry. 

Geralt laughed. 

“Guessing your presence here isn’t a social call.” Regis said dumping mash into the distiller, and lighting a small flame. “that should be good and ready by the time we get back. Can you have Gunner check on this to make sure it doesn’t burn itself out while we are gone?”

Geralt nodded.

“And no it’s not a social call It’s time to hit the road.” Geralt said turning. “They are saddling the horses and they should be ready to go in about ten minutes.” 

Geralt felt discontent wash over him.

“Cold feet?” Geralt asked. Regis snorted.

“Yes, but only because you know how I feel about fighting.” Regis said grabbing his bag and slipping the last few things he had used back into it and organizing it fitfully. “When we were hunting Syanna I was so out of sorts with the worry about choosing you or Dettlaff I didn’t have time to concern myself with my own moral quandaries about killing.”

“Don’t worry then.” Geralt said shrugging. “If there is any killing that happens it’s going to have to be by my hand anyway. You are contractually obligated to vampire kind to not kill other vampires.”

Regis pulled a face. 

“It’s true… there is likely to be one person, maybe two, that are human.” Geralt shrugged. “Besides I fully intend to let the vast majority of them to run. I will only let them run after I make sure they get a clear message that I am not to be fucked with.”

“I would argue with that line of thinking, but this is Orianna we are speaking of. There is no reasoning with the unreasonable.” Regis said finally happy with his bag. “And Orianna is well past that point in my opinion.”

Regis pulled on the familyar bag, and the tinkling of the glass sent a wash of memories through Geralt. Regis caught it and smiled sadly.

“Come Geralt. Lets go.” He said patting the witcher on the back. Geralt sighed and turned up the tunnel.

When he popped out of it the yard was bustling. Geralt stopped as Roach and Vlad were lead up to them. It was still dark though twilight was fast coming. The horizon had begun to glow a soft purple.

“Master Geralt of Corvo Bianco, may your hunt be fruitful.” Barnabus said standing in his bed clothes along side Marline and Janice. Geralt hopped up onto his horse and looked out at all his workers and smiled fondly. Regis popped up next to him on vlad. 

“I will return soon.” Geralt said addressing Barnabus. “I expect to be back before the crush.”

“Very good sir, in the event that you are not back, we will begin harvesting as the first leaves turn.” Barnibus said earning a nod from Geralt. 

“Don’t forget about the olives. Two weeks, leave em alone. Then change out the water without rinsing.”

“Got it sir.” Barnabus said.

Geralt gave a final nod and a sweep of the people that now depended on him and he smiled. 

He took off like a shot from the vineyard with Regis in tow. 

They arrived at the palace as the sky was beginning to turn red. The city was awake and alive, and attempting to deal with the plague. Geralt and Regis flew straight to the Stables and entered the palace through them. Once inside Geralt and Regis made their way stoically to Damian De La Tours offices, where voices could be heard. 

The soldier guarding the door was the same one that had gotten sick. Geralt stopped a moment and put his hands on the gaurds arm. 

“How are you doing Seratio?” Geralt said the warmness and the remembrance of his name shocking the guard. 

“M… Much better, Geralt, sir. All thanks to you.” Seratio said his voice uneven. “I swear on the heron that should you ever need anything I will see to it that you get it. I just had a babe, my wife had a fever the whole last half of her pregnancy. We had just gotten back to normality when this hit. Without you the babe would be fatherless and my wife… I can not imagine it.”

“I appreciate it Seratio, there may be a time I take you up on that offer.” Geralt said smiling. 

“Glad to see you are well.” Regis said shaking the gaurds hand as he passed. “Try and find some wild Ginger root for your wife, it will help settle her further.”

“Thank you sir Regis, I will keep that in mind.” The guard was beaming at the two of them as he opened the door for their entry. 

“And their they are, the men of the hour.” Damian said “How is the neck Geralt?”

“Itching, the stitches are gonna need to come out soon.” Geralt said flexing the armored band of his collar down to show them off.”

Geralt let out a sudden oomph as a form attached herself to him in a bear hug. 

“Morning Ciri.” Geralt said hugging the girl back. 

“Morning Da, Good morning Regis.” Ciri detached herself from Geralt and much to His surprise and to Regis’s she hugged the vampire. Regis leaned into the hug and patted the woman on her swords. 

“Good morning Cirilla.” He said the warmness in his voice kindling a fondness in Geralt he couldn’t place. 

She pulled away quickly and laughed.

“Enough with this family junk it’s gonna rot my teeth.” Lambert groused from the shadows. 

“For once you and I agree.” Yennefer said casting a bubble around the room as Geralt spotted her short form sitting on Damian’s desk. 

“Where is Kiera?” Geralt asked, looking around at those assembled. He saw all the witchers he knew were in Toussaint, Yennefer, Ciri, Damian, Morvan, and four elves Geralt didn’t recognize. “And who are they?”

“They are a part of our now much more elaborate plan to keep people in the dark.” Beamed Ciri. 

“First lets get the un-pleasantries out of the way.” Morvran said standing. Geralt gave a short nod to the man who returned it in kind. “Thus far we have managed to contain the plague here. However other instances of it have popped up throughout the whole of Nilfgaard, requiring us as a nation to step forward and put a plan into place to save the populace. Kiera is with Shani in the city of the golden towers working with our alchemists and healers to get the cure out as quickly as possible. We are finding pockets of natural immunity here and there. The Emperor’s caravan had been effected by the plague, but quick thinking on Ciri’s behalf sent a crew to them to immunize everyone within a 10 mile radius of the Emperor and his caravan. He is taking this as but a bump in the road and still plans on being here in roughly three weeks times, hoping the weather holds.”

“Thus far there have been 40 deaths here in Beauclair, some of which were with people that had not had any direct contact with the Ex-Duchess. On each one of them we found one of the vials.” Morvran said his eyes hard. “Because of this we are now treating this as an attack against the empire as a whole, and thus Geralt of Corvo Bianco you have been given the title of “Dhu Evn'gesaen”.” 

Morvran handed Geralt a necklace with a golden sun, and a ring with the royal signet on it. He also handed him a scroll case with a decree in it. Geralt stashed the scroll case and the ring on the satchel that hung under some plate paneling on his armor. He then hung the necklace on his neck with some shifting his wolf’s head rested right on top of it. 

“This will allow you complete freedom of movement within the empire. This includes access to a bank account which you may pull from at will, as well as an instant pardon from any crimes that are committed in attempts to get the information you seek. I will now release the floor to the Witcher Cirilla.”

Ciri stepped up and gave Morvran a mischievous look. He stiffened, as did every witcher in the room. Geralt had to suppress a sudden growl and Regis put his hand on his shoulder. Ciri noticed the movement and blushed.

“I forgot that all you could…” She rubbed her face with her hand and suppressed a sigh.

“Like father like daughter.” Geralt was going to Kill Lambert. Slowly, and painfully, preferably with the acid gland of a royal gryphon attached to a single needle where he would slowly tattoo him to death.

“Anyway.” Ciri said shooting a look of pure venom towards Lambert who grinned like an idiot. “Geralt you explained to me what you wanted me to do, you told me to find two individuals that looked like you and Regis to take with me. I would like you to meet Teegan, Nuth, Blanch and Lussel. They are Doppler’s who Dudu called upon to help us as he is unable to pull himself away from his duties in Novigrad. We are going to keep two here looking like you and Regis, and have two more fly forward with me.”

Geralt nodded at the three females and one male, who currently had the form of elves. They were all smiles and nodding. 

“The plan past that point is to just keep people as distracted as possible.” Ciri said. 

“They do realize the risk they are taking.” Geralt said looking at them. 

“Yes, and we found a solution to that problem as well.” Yennefer said pulling herself off the desk. She was the shortest one in the room, but commanded the most attention. “While searching through the effects of Anna Henrietta, we found an arcane book in the old Children’s nursery called the land of a thousand fables. Within this book, which Geralt had traveled previously, I found out that there was a back door. I traveled the storybook land and found a little girl selling flint and fisteck. She also had an enchanted Ribbon. This ribbon, we have found out, will teleport whomever has it if in mortal danger, instantly back into the book. I have rearranged the internal workings of the illusion and created a straight shot door out and into this office. We separated the ribbon into four pieces. Each of which one of the dopplers has. Each one has been tested and works well with them.”

“It wasn’t pretty and I am pretty sure I shit myself, but yes it works.” One of the Doplers confirmed, to the chuckle of the others. 

“I am going to ask what I think is a very obvious question here, but why do Geralt and I not have one of these Ribbons.” Regis asked his hand tightening on his satchel. 

“It’s simple actually, and the same reason Ciri isn’t carrying one.” Yennefer said smirking. “You are all three in mortal danger constantly. It will teleport you if someone so much as nicks you. With as bloody as Geralt and Ciri both come back from their battles looking line, I highly doubt they would get anywhere if they teleport back the instant they got injured.”

“In turn I have also acquired several horses for them to ride.” Damian said looking at Morvran. “They have been tested and approved by Morvran here, all of them have been magically modified to sport the burn scar Regis’s Destider carries, as well as the coloring.”

“I have been through part of the ruins under the palace.” Geralt said changing the subject. “The last time was years ago, how clear is the path we aim to take?”

“It’s perfect, repaved, re-cobbled, and lit.” Damian said proudly. “The Emperor is going to arrive by that route. We needed a way to move a large group of people without being seen, and the elven ruins are part of an underground highway system, by which precious stones and minerals were ferried from the Angren mountains to the north. We have taken it and repaired knowing that it would be of great use.”

“Is there anyone that is stationed along that route?” Geralt asked. 

“No, the path is clear of people. There are some monsters down there, but we planned to send you through originally to clear the path before the emperor arrived.” Damian said flipping out his notebook. “As a matter of fact we have magically sealed the far end of the cave, Yennefer informs me you have a tool to remove illusions?”

“Yes, the Eye of Nehaleni.” Geralt said feeling it’s weight in one of the pouches on his belt. 

“Good.”

“And this is for you Geralt.” Yennefer said striding up to Geralt and handing him a rock with runes.

“What’s this do?” Geralt said examining the rock. 

“That will sew more confusion.” Yennefer said proudly. “It will create an illusion, that will look like you have removed your mutations. You’ll look like some random country bumkin that never saw a witcher school.”

Geralt felt himself swallow. He felt distress and conflict race through him. Regis reached out put a hand on him and squeezed. Somewhere distant, Geralt felt Dettlaff wake and send a wave of support sleepily through the bond. Yennefer and the witchers all caught his mood shift.

“You do realize how cruel that is, Lady Yennefer.” Letho’s voice carried over the room, his low rumbling tones cutting through the current of unease. “Every last one of us, even Geralt who thrives in his mutations, and who likely would go back and trod the path again if asked, has regrets about his choices. To see himself on a path he never took…”

“Is looking to deep into it.” Yennefer said curtly. “This is a disguise and nothing more. Yes it will play up the features he would have had, but it is not a substitute for normalcy, which is what you all actually crave anyway.”

Everyone in the room was shocked into silence. Geralt could feel his temper fairing.

“You are an absolute bitch.” Lambert said his voice shaking with emotion. “How dare you…”

“How dare I what?” Yennefer said her voice ice and ire. “Use my powers to help where I can? Try to keep this province afloat while it’s sinking? Loose countless hours of sleep fighting a plague? Attempt to keep his Majesty informed of all goings on without giving away state secrets to anyone that may or may not be listening in? Attempt against all odds to keep Geralt here alive despite his constant need to fling himself into the most dangerous situations a single man can face? Yes Lambert how dare I for the sake of thousands of people, hand a simple disguise over to a man who has bigger priorities then his simple discomfort over looking different.”

Geralt’s nose faired as he scented blood. He looked to Regis, and Regis looked back confused. They both looked to Lambert. Lambert was gripping his fists so tight his nails had dug into the skin on his palms. Every last witcher had activated their mutations, and Geralt did the same as instinct and kinship washed over him. Five sets of glowing yellow eyes regarded Yennefer silently.

“Now, if we are done,” Yennefer said looking at each one in turn, not intimidated in the least by the angry witchers surrounding her. “You are to use this Geralt to keep yourself from sight for as long as possible. I expect it will come in handy as intelligence reports have come in stating that Dillingen is under some sort of magical influence. Unfortunately with the magical purges of the past years, we are sorely in lack of mages, otherwise you would be sent with someone to help you counteract the spells that have taken over. However I trust you will find a way.”

“Has their been any information regarding Triss?” Geralt asked. His question was a loaded one, but Geralt was feeling petty. It worked and Yennefer narrowed her eyes.

“There has. She has been sent to Novigrad as a magical emissary for Kovir.” Yennefer said her voice cooling. “She has been tasked with escorting the Bard Dandelion, and his wife Priscilla, and their unborn babe down here so that both Priscilla and Dandelion can sing and entertain during the emperors visit. Due to Priscilla's condition both with her voice and her unborn child it has been deemed wise for her to have an envoy, magical and otherwise.”

Geralt nodded his eyes flashing. Yennefer looked away. 

“Now, Yennefer had mentioned that we have had our spies looking into Dillingen, and we also sent them as well to Mettnia to seek out information on the contract for the fiend.” Morvane interrupted and cleared his throat. “We have found out that there is indeed a fiend Terrorizing the Rickard Estate, so Ciri needs to be aware and plan accordingly. As for Dillingen, we have had several spies that have attempted reconnaissance. Only two have managed to report back, and of those two only one hadn’t had his memory modified magically. There is a presence there, so Geralt, Regis, be wary.” 

Morvane looked to the dopplers who up till this point had been sitting silently.

“Now, please stand.” The dopplers stood and shifted Nervously. 

“Geralt, Regis, hold out your hands.” The vampire dropped the hand that had been on Geralt’s shoulder and Geralt held out his own hand. 

“They do know I am a vampire yes?” Regis said nervously.

“They are aware, they will be able to mimic your current form Regis, and nothing else. The Magic you carry inside you for transformations and your need for blood will not carry over as they are alien to them.” Ciri said approaching the group.

“I honestly would have been more nervous at them winding up as women.” Damian said watching in fascination.

“Actually there is no chance of that.” One of the Doppler females said touching Geralt’s hand, she shifted and before Geralt stood a perfect mirror copy of himself. “Our foundations change to our core. We become the gender we seek to mimic. You should ask Dudu, or Geralt sometime of the time Dudu changed himself into one of Dandilions old flames and slept with him. I hear it was quite hilarious.”

Geralt barked out a laugh, he couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t thought about that particular set of events in years, and the look on his friends face as he found out he had slept with Dudu, all the while Dudu cackling like a mad man. That memory was priceless to him, as priceless as Dandelion’s face when he found out. 

“You will have to inform me of this story.” Regis said his interest perked as one of the dopplers touched his hand. There was only a slight waver and suddenly a perfect mirror copy of Regis stood in front of them.

The process repeated for the other two, and soon there were three Geralts’ and three Regis’ standing in the room. 

“My group to me please.” Ciri said and two of them broke off. 

“And ours to us.” Eskel said looking at the clones warily.

“Now, it’s time to go. The horses are in the stables, minus your’s Geralt and Regis.” Damian said. “Yours have been lead to the ruins, I trust you remember how to get down there?”

Geralt nodded.

“Good, then lets begin, good luck and god speed Gentlemen and ladies.” Damion said. “And I swear on the heron that by the time you return order will have been restored.”

Geralt snorted, and sought Ciri out to give her a final hug.

“Be safe, Fiends are nothing to be underestimated.” Geralt said hugging the slighter woman.

“I will, and the odds of others being around are high as well. I will be fine.” Ciri said her breath tickling his ear.

She reached over and hugged Regis as well. 

“Be safe child,” Regis said pulling away and clasping her hands. “Geralt would be beside himself if…”

“Do not worry master vampire.” Ciri said puffing out her cheeks and grinning. “I will return if only to pet you.”

Regis laughed his fangs catching the light. Geralt looked at the two confused. 

“Let us Depart.” 

 

By the time they set off the sun had finally peaked over the mountains. Regis had gotten yet another bag to carry from Yennefer full of tinctures with the plague cure, immunizations, and syringes. Generally, since they had a hunch the plague attack had originated at the orphanage in Dillingen, they thought it was a good idea to send Regis with enough medicine to hand out to the populace if they needed it. He had attached it, and his other bags to Vlad as Geralt and himself walked in the damp darkness of the elven highway leading their horses. 

Geralt had to keep the horses under lock and key with Axii. Both of them were made for overland travel, and the tunnels had spooked them right away. Geralt at some point had handed Regis the reigns and was walking with his silver sword out and coated in necrophage oil. As they walked in the dark, Regis had found himself humming the old lullaby they had sung young vampires to sleep with, the long darkness was providing great acoustics and an eerie echo. Geralt for his part couldn’t bring the vampire to stop, he knew the song, and Regis’s clear voice humming it made Geralt nearly giddy in hopes that a monster would hop out. 

Once their eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness, they could see little bits of phosphorescent lichen covering the rocks, and slipping down into the pools that skirted the highway. Here and there pieces of flotsam littered the road from the work crews that came through, including torches, which neither witcher nor vampire felt the need to light. 

“It feels very odd walking down here.” Regis said his voice bouncing off the walls. “Comforting in a way, at least for me. It’s quiet. The only thing I can hear is you and the horses hooves.”

“That’s a good thing.” Geralt said, his voice somehow sounding deeper in the caverns as it echoed. “How far down would you guess that we are?”

Regis pondered for a moment. 

“well we are still going down, and we have been in here for quite a while.” Regis tucked a stray hair behind his ear as he spoke. “I know the land we are heading towards goes up. I would say several hundred feet at least. We have dropped nearly three hundred feet since we started down this path, and over the course of several miles it may not seem like we are going that deep but looks can be deceiving. Meanwhile the land outside is slowly sloping upwards.” 

“Hey, there is something coming up.” Geralt said tightning his stance a bit. “Something is on the floor.”

Geralt and Regis approached what was there and the smell got to them long before they could make it out. It was a body. Reaching into his bag on his belt Geralt quickly took a small swig of cat. When his vision sharpened he approached the body.

When he was close enough to see it he could see that it hadn’t been touched. No teeth marks, no signs of magic. His head was bent under his chest the neck clearly broken. Geralt winced.

“Looks like he fell.” Geralt said looking up and his eyes meeting nothing but the ceiling of the cave.

“Well if he fell he had to fall from somewhere.” Regis said looking up as well.

Geralt pondered that as he looked around. 

“Geralt I am going to shift. I feel an air current.” Regis said handing the reigns of the horses to Geralt. 

“O….k…” Geralt said regarding him with surprised curiosity. Regis set down his bags and made sure they were out of the way. Then he shimmered. 

The change happened quickly. Regis’s fingers elongated, and his clothes absorbed into his body. A Web draped itself between said fingers and following through down to the edge of his big toe. A tail sprouted out his back end and the same skin that laced between Regis’s fingers laced between his ankles and his new tail. Spots appeared all over the naked skin, then as quickly as they had appeared they were covered in black fur. His face was the last thing to change, elongating slightly, his ears extending. The sudden appearance of thick muscle under the thin skin of the scalp seemed to raise the cup in Regis’s ears. He could see the shift in the bone structure happen and his nose gained a ridge. 

Geralt blinked in recognition.

“This is the form you were in in Stryga.” Geralt breathed in wonder finally having a moment to appreciate the large form of the vampire in front of him. 

“Yes, it is indeed.” The bat version of Regis said. There was a double layer harmonic over his voice now that Geralt hadn’t caught back in Styga. Both High, and low, and both well out of human hearing range. Geralt wondered. 

“Give me a moment Geralt, I now know I can hear air.” Regis said angling his head to the Celing his nose twitching and his ears pointing forward.

The great bat shuffled itself on his feet and let out a high pitched chittering call. Again the three layer harmonic was present. It echoed around Geralt and he winced slightly. Regis’s ears went nuts and he shut his eyes.

Geralt about fell over when Regis jumped into the air and flapped his powerful wings three times and landed on the ceiling. 

“Gotta warn me, or I’ll wind up stabbing you.” Geralt said trying to ease his heart back down his throat. 

“It wouldn’t do much of anything right now, other then make me momentarily uncomfortable.” Regis said offhandedly as he navigated the stalagmites. “But thank you for the warning none the less.”

“Do you see anything up there?” Geralt asked peering up at his friend. There was another high pitched call, this one made the horses grumble and stomp. 

“Yes there is Geralt!” The excitement Regis was feeling came through the bond suddenly and warmly.

“What do you see?” Geralt craned his neck and watched as Regis disappeared seemingly into the wall.

“Seems to be a wine storage area.” Regis called from out of the hole. “There is rotted wood up here, he must have stumbled through it. Poor sot.”

“Ok well get back down here and lets continue onwards.”

“Wasn’t it mentioned that the emperor is supposed to take this path when he arrives?” Regis said finally poking his head back out. 

“Yes, he was.” Geralt watched as Regis extracted the rest of his body from the hole and hung perfectly upside-down his wings folded tight against him.

“Should any more such holes exist it would likely cause issues.” Regis said simply. “we need to make a note of it and tell Damian about it.”

“Yeah we d….” A gust of wind and a huff and a startled whinny from the horses pulled Geralt backwards. Regis had landed in front of him. Geralt watched as the great nose twittched and the large ears and large black eyes centered on him. 

“Geralt… may I?” Regis asked. Geralt couldn’t read any sort of expression on the Gaint bat. Only that his nose and ears were twiching, and focused on him.

“I… yes?” Geralt stammered confusion in his voice.

Regis was on top of him in a flash, his nose buried first in Geralt’s chest, then his groin, then he moved up and snuffled the man’s hair. Geralt couldn’t help the laugh that burst forward as the soft nose wiggled against his neck. He brought his hands up to push Regis away and was met with silky soft fur. Momentarily caught off guard Geralt flexed his hands through the black and felt the warmness radiating from the skin hidden underneath. Regis chittered. Weight pressed down on Geralts shoulders and his eyes snapped open. Regis held him firmly a thumb draped over his shoulder armor and the wings crossed around back. 

“Regis….” Geralt growled in warning. The bat snuffled and the Scent of rain surrounded him. Geralt startled as Regis began rubbing his cheeks over his shoulders, chest and head. The force behind those movements was almost painful. The smell increased and Geralt finally grabbed ahold of Regis’s face and backed himself out of the grip.

“Ok ok, enough.” Geralt said the movement breaking whatever had come over Regis.

“Oh goodness.” The shift back happened even faster and before him stood the Regis he knew. “S…. sorry about that.”

“ ‘s ok.” Geralt said taking a deep breath of the scent. A shudder ran through him to his toes. “Not the first time I have been scent marked by something, first time from a friend though.”

Geralt started walking again to get away from the corpse and Regis quickly grabbed his bags and followed. 

“I am sorry I know it smells terrible.” Regis said causing Geralt to look back. 

“Are you kidding?” Geralt said not hiding the incredulousness that filtered through his voice. “What does it smell like to you?”

“Honestly I feel like I smell of old plant mold, fungus and wet.” Regis said wrinkling his nose. “I smell like an old road right before it rains.”

Geralt couldn’t help himself as he took another lungful of the air. 

“Gods yes you do.” Geralt said sighing out a small smile playing on his lips. 

“How is that not disgusting?” Regis said speeding up his walk to catch back up to Geralt. 

“It smells like life, Regis, like rebirth.” Geralt said momentarily loosing himself to the smell as he walked. “It smells like spring rain and thunderstorms. I can’t tell you the amount of times I have smelled the rains coming, and how good it smells to me.”

“Ok Dandilion.” Regis groused. 

“You have never noticed that humans always, without fail, will seek out that scent of rain and comment on it?” Geralt asked turning towards the vampire again and handing him the reigns.

“Noticed yes.” Regis said Geralt could feel discomfort radiating through the bond. 

“It’s not because you stink.” Geralt said as Regis winced. “It’s because we are drawn to it on an instinctual level.” 

Regis snorted.

“You know that orange oil and cinnamon that you douse yourself in all the time?” Geralt said as Regis’s eyes finally met his. “That stuff smells great to me too, but for you to be able to douse yourself in it as sensitive as your nose is means you literally want to roll in the stuff and make every inch of your body smell like it. It’s something that centers deep, and hits a part of you that is difficult to explain.”

“I can’t deny that.” Regis said a small smile playing across his face.

“That smell is to you what yours is to me.” Geralt grinned watching as realization dawned over Regis’s face.

Geralt walked forward smugly as the vampire was at a loss for words. 

As the ground evened out and began to tilt upwards finally, Geralt and Regis had begun talking about wine again, the chattering about wine turned into a big laughing game between Geralt and Regis as they walked onwards and their voices echoed back at them. At some point Geralt began to sing first tavern songs, then limericks. Regis chimed in too them taking turns and singing over one another. 

When Geralt told Regis he had a moody one, Regis prodded him onwards.

It was the first time that Regis had heard the Wolven song that Pricilla had created in memory of the failed romance between Geralt and Yennefer. Geralt’s voice rasped through the song, and the echo created a haunting backdrop to the words, which rang more true now then they had. 

Geralt thought about the words as he sang and how tragic his and Yennefer’s stories were. Much like most of the time now days when he thought of Yennefer through the lenses of the past, his stomach tightened, and sorrow filled him that he couldn’t be what she needed. Neither of them could be, no matter how hard they had tried. There had been moments of course, because not everything was always bad, but those single blissful moments were wedged between animosity and trying to see who could hurt the other worse.

She had put the icing on the cake by becoming Emperor Emhyr’s lover. And Geralt had put the strawberry on top by hooking up with her best friend. He only regretted it not because of remembering Yennefer, but because he really actually didn’t care for Triss in the least. In the twenty years he had been involved with Yennefer and by proxy the lodge Triss and others had been after him from the get go. Something that still flustered Geralt to this day. Triss had used his loss of memory to her advantage. Geralt may have grown over the years but he hated being anyone’s pawn.

He finished up the song, and listened to the last of the echo’s as they traveled down the tunnel. 

“Geralt… that was amazing.” Regis breathed his hand clutched tightly on his satchel while his others held the reigns on the horses so tightly his knuckles were white. “I had only ever seen it written and had never heard the melody.”

“Pricilla is something special.” Geralt said smiling as he thought of her and Dandelion. “I can’t wait to see them when Em…”

The piercing noise of Roach squealing, and Vlad neighing spun Geralt around like lightning. Both Horses were suddenly very agitated, and Regis had clamped down both hands on the reigns as the horses began to pull against him and snort, tails flying every which way.

“Geralt!” Regis called then stiffened. His eyes widened. Geralt could feel something in the center of his chest, a low noise that shook him to the core.

“The Reigns!” Geralt snapped. Regis tossed them over. 

Geralt did what he was taught never to do with horses and wrapped the Reigns around his wrist and reeled the horses in close. He cast Axii strong enough that both of the horses had stopped moving. Regis was looking around as the sound got worse. Geralt could feel it through his boots now.

“Regis to me!” Geralt roared. The ground shifted and lurched. Regis got close and Geralt cast the strongest Quen he had ever cast in his life. The Roar became deafening as the ground lurched hard enough to knock Regis over and send the horses sprawling. Geralt smelled blood and looked over to Regis who had a hand to his head.

“Geralt this is an Earthquake.” Regis said trying to find footing and failing. “I haven’t’ felt one this strong in years.”

“Roach, Vlad… Down… Down now!” Geralt tried to get his fingers in his mouth to whistle the command, but he kept missing. The Axii over them was strong enough still that both horses obediatly laid on the ground on their sides. Regis crawled over to the animals and sat between their heads. The earth below Geralt’s feet was still pitching violently, and rocks and debris were pinging against the shield Geralt had up. He let the reigns go to redouble his efforts to keep the quen intact. 

He was panting now the effort of maintaining the magical barrier against the rocks that fell and trying to keep himself upright while the earth was moving up and down like a wave.

“Didn’t train for this!” Geralt seethed using his anger to double his reserves. 

Geralt could hear Regis calming the horses and talking to them, Just as he was reaching his limit the pitching began to slow. Geralt shifted through his satchel and found the potion he was looking for as the waves began to lull. He downed a superior tawny owl and stood as the ground slowly began to stop pitching, and the low rumble of sound started to dissipate.

Finally all that remained was the labored breathing of the horses, and Geralt’s own panting. Geralt reached out with his senses and found that everything had stilled, and he finally let the quen go. It snapped into oblivion with a Hiss, and Geralt’s bad knee buckled. He let off a grunt of pain and choked as the fall knocked the wind out of him. Regis was up in a flash.

“Are you hurt?” Regis asked as Geralt gasped for breath double time to catch back up again. 

“M… my pride.” Geralt said hissing as he tried to move his knee. It was a burning pit of pain he was still panting and in no way ready to get up quite yet. Regis undid the armor around Geralt’s leg and discarded it. Geralt hissed as the vampire’s fingers prodded along the sides of his knee finally landing on a very very sore, and somewhat swollen spot right below his patella. 

“hmmmm Not the worst news, but not the best either.” Regis said closing his eyes as he let his fingers roam around the injured joint. 

“FUCK.” Geralt kicked out by reflex when Regis hit the spot full on. 

“Stop being a baby Geralt, This is something you will have to get fixed or we aren’t going to be able to stop Orianna.” Regis said feeling around the back side of Geralt’s knee.

All Geralt could do as Regis wound his fingers around the joint was gasp. The pain was quickly becoming excruciating.

“Ok Geralt, you are going to feel pressure, and a pop.” Regis said locking his leg around Geralt’s thigh. 

“Wait… what are you doing.” Geralt said his eyes wide. 

“One….”

“No… No no no…” Geralt’s hands scrambled for purchase scraping at Regis’s leg as it held him down. 

“Two.”

“Godsdamnit Regis… wait… stop….” Geralt felt desperation panicking his voice as he full on struggled. 

“Three”

The scream caught in Geralt’s throat before he could bring voice to it. Searing pain was followed immediately by relief. The feeling sent him into shaky convulsions. Regis massaged around the knee examining his work. 

“You can let go of my leg now.” Regis said dryly. “As dull as your nails are they are still biting into me quite uncomfortably.”

“What… the Fuck… Regis.” Geralt said unlocking his fingers from the Vampire’s leg. Regis scooted backwards and reached into his satchel and pulled out a vial of swallow. 

“You know that old leg injury that you got… oh… a decade ago?” Regis said handing the vial to Geralt who downed it greedily. “The one I told you rather specifically to go have someone look at? Someone other then the Dryads? You know, someone that doesn’t heal with plants that can cause more issues then they heal?”

Geralt felt himself fall limp as both potions began to run through his system at full tilt. 

“Yeah?” Geralt groaned as Regis fished through his bag again. He brought out bandage and a small jar of something vaguely gelatinous.

“That is one of the reasons I told you to have it looked at.” Regis snorted “Your ligaments are all out of place. You dislocated your knee.”

Geralt could smell peppermint oil, pepper oil, cannabis oil, and willowbark oil as Regis opened the lid on the jelly. Regis quickly worked the solution into the skin surrounding Geralt’s knee. It was strangely soothing. Both cold and warm at the same time. Geralt finally was catching his breath and instantly felt anger wash over him.

“I am getting old Regis.” Geralt groaned. “I am starting to fall apart.”

“So it would seem.” Regis said with a smirk as he began to wrap Geralt’s knee and cover the soothing oils that were now making Geralt’s skin tingle. 

Geralt huffed.

“You are supposed to comfort the injured.” Geralt said eyeing the vampire as he worked. 

“Doctors comfort the injured. Barber surgeons box your ears for being stupid while fixing you up.” Regis said pulling back and looking at Geralts knee. He made a small nod of satisfaction. “I have never been one to shy away from botheration Geralt you know this.”

Geralt laughed. 

“Now I know I don’t need to say this, but you need to get up and we need to get out of here. Who knows when the aftershocks are going to hit.” Regis said standing up, and helping Geralt up. 

Geralt leaned against Regis for a moment to test out his knee, and then hobbled forward. The hobble turned to a walk, and then a slightly uneven jog. 

“It feels great Regis, thanks.” Geralt lifted his leg up and extended it outwards, balancing on one foot. “The wrap feels like someone stuck a snotty rag to me though.”

“Snotty rag for the baby Witcher.” Regis chuckled. Geralt looked over at him in exasperation, then burst into laughter. Regis began to get the horses up again, both of which were still spooked, and now without the Axii. Regis comforted them both as best he could while Geralt got his leg armor back on.

A piercing wail and a cry brought the witcher and the vampire back to attention. 

“Regis the ceiling is high enough here… lets try the horses.” Geralt said leaping up onto Roaches back as she danced in a circle. 

Regis climbed onto Vlad delicately giving the horse a pat. 

Geralt took off like a shot towards the sound, and Regis trotted after him, moving around rocks and small piles of debris as they went. The crying got louder, and as Geralt rounded a corner a rock troll sat on the ground howling.

“Easy… easy….. It’s just a Rock troll Roach.” Geralt said halting the horse.

“Door…. Shut. ” The Rock troll cried. “Door shut…earth shakey… Rock troll… Rock troll friend. Rock hurt troll.”

“What happened? How did you get trapped here?” Geralt approached the troll slowly as He heard Regis disembark.

The troll sniffed miserably snot running down his face. 

“Rock troll mom, she die, bad mushroom.” The troll shook his large head wincing whenever he moved his arm. “Rock mom, say Morvovio must find Cave of pointy ears, there he safe. He weird troll. He has Desti…. Desti… Purpose. Morvovio live in cave safe, long time… long time. Pointy ears say Morvovio Guard, Morvovio guard. Then Left. Morvovio Guard still, but bored. Fall asleep. Sleep long… long time.”

Geralt came closer to the troll and began to look at it closely. It was the Largest specimen of the species he had ever seen. The crystals jutting off his back carried a metallic sheen. He was tall, and powerful looking if slightly learner then normal rock trolls. His arm was held at an odd angle and was bleeding.

“After sleep, little pink Dh’oine come. Need help. Morvovio helps. Down valley, many people many task, pay in wine! New Dh’oine come, new soon. Say pay Morvovio help clear cave.” The Rock troll wailed. “Now cave no clear! Rock friend! Before big Shaky, asleep. Heard song. Morvovio love song. Pointy ears love song, Morvovio love pointy ears. They gone. Song made Morvovio want listen, follow song, then rock…. Rock friend hurt Morvovio.”

“Ah we were the ones singing, Morvovio.” Regis said stepping up to Geralt. “I can help you, but we are now hopelessly lost, and need to find the exit.”

“Exit Gone…. Dh’oine close.” The rock troll sniffed miserably. “Valley in hills, many rock, many flower. Red flower, remind Morvovio of Mom.”

“If you show us where it is we can unlock it.” Geralt said approaching the troll closer. “We have something to help.”

The troll looked to him his eyes red and hopeful.

“When we get out into the light I can fix your arm properly.” Regis said.

“You not Dh’oine.” The troll sniffed looking at Regis. “You not Dh’oine either.”

Geralt blinked.

“No I am a witcher. And he is a Barber surgeon.” Geralt said finally close enough to put his hand on the large beast. The rock troll flinched then settled as Geralt gave him a pat.

“May I see your arm?” Regis said, the troll nodded and winced. His body creaking with the effort he lifted his arm up and presented it to Regis. There was no mistaking the break, but the arm was as long as Regis was tall. Regis pondered for a moment, then gently guided the trolls arm downwards so it was resting once again on the floor. 

He reached behind his back to what Geralt had assumed was a scroll case attached to the strap on his bag, and unhooked it. 

“Don’t be surprised at this Morvovio. It’s going to make a noise, but I shall turn around so it doesn’t startle you to much.”

“Morvovio not scardy rat.” The troll sniffed using his good arm to wipe away the tears on his face. 

Regis smiled. 

“Didn’t think you were, but it is loud none the less.”

Geralt watched in rapt attention as Regis pressed a button and released a clip, and a staff came rocketing out. The troll only blinked, just as fascinated as Geralt was. 

“Geralt, could you give me the leads from Vlad, I do not need them presently.” Geralt quickly walked over and grabbed the leads off of Regis’s horses pack. And handed them to Regis. Regis put the staff up against the trolls hurt arm, and tore the leather leads in half lengthwise. 

“Bare with me this may not be comfortable.” Regis said as he shifted the large arm upwards. The way he maneuvered the arm caused Geralt to blink, rock trolls were heavy, geralt knew, he had killed a few, and in one case he had to bring the body of the Rabid troll to an alchamist. Regis was manuvering it like it weighed nothing at all.

“Barber surgeon Strong!” The troll barked and winced. “Hurty arm. Morvovio worse been through.”

“You speak exceptionally well Morvovio.” Regis said as he wrapped the leather banding around the pole to stabilize the arm. “I know how difficult it is for you to learn the common language. I find your command of it extraordinary.”

“Pointy ears help.” Morvovio said flexing his arm.

“Elves haven’t been here in Centuries.” Geralt said watching in fascination. “how long have you been down here?”

The troll thought about it for a bit, and rumbled out something in his own language. 

“Morvovio not sure.” The troll said sniffing again. “Morvovio came Imbalek, much fire, much warm. 

“Why did you stay down here?” Geralt asked. 

“Pointy ears gave Morvovio many rock.” The troll nodded vigorously as Regis release his arm. “Pointy ears friends. Morvovio stay, pointy ears Feainn’enid say be back. Morvovio stay. Feainn’enid nice, give many rock.”

“That should do it friend.” Regis said stepping back. The rock roll pulled his arm away and flexed it to and fro, he winced. He sniffed again. 

“Earth moves.” He said looking up.

“Not again….” Geralt couldn’t feel it yet, but grabbed the horses anyway and brought them towards the troll casting Axii again. The Troll stood up.

“Help squishy friends.” Geralt startled as the troll stood up. He had knew the beast was large, but he was taller then him by at least his height and half. “Stand under, squishy Dh’oine and Barber Surgeon.

Geralt felt it in his feet again and grunted, this time casting Quen so that it sheltered them mostly from the front, but included the Troll in the shield. The Rocking began again this time not as fevered. Geralt managed to keep the shield up with less strain and less impacts. The troll grunted a few times, but his feet were planted far enough apart that he stood like a giant overhang. He could feel distress from the bond, both from Regis, and now from Detlaff who had apparently been woken up. 

Regis brushed up against Geralt his hand holding his belt. Geralt grabbed Regis’s hand and squeezed it. The vampires hand was cool, and clammy, Geralts was warm. As the ground shifted and swayed Geralt rubbed Regis’s hand with his thumb. The distress was lessened immediately. 

“How is Detlaff fairing.” Geralt said over the roar of the earth, using his other hand to keep the shield in place. 

“He is currently cursing.” Regis said. “How he slept through the first one is beyond me.”

Jealousy slipped into Geralt’s mind until Regis flexed his fingers around Geralt’s. The vampire’s claws brushed the backs of his wrist his fingers were so long. Geralt felt fire race through him at the returned contact. The shaking began to dissipate, but the race of energy through Geralt caused the shield to increase. 

Not a moment later a stalagmite dropped and caused the shield to burst outwards in a flame dissipating the rock into small shards that went rocketing away and littered the hall. The Troll Laughed, a grinding rolling sound much like the earthquake. 

“Handy!” He said still laughing. 

Geralt hadn’t let go of Regis’s hand. His mouth felt dry and sticky. He chanced a look at the vampire as he felt his capillaries open and his ears heat up. Regis was looking at him. Their eyes met and a moment that seemed to last forever passed between them. Hesitantly Geralt released his grip drawing his hand away slowly. The troll moved and the horses shifted.

“Morvovio Covered in dust.” The troll said shaking the debris that had landed in between the large crystals on his back. Pebbles and dust landed all over Geralt and Regis, and Geralt breathed a big chunk in and started to cough. The moment was broken, and Geralt wanted to curse at the troll, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. 

“Thank you Morvovio,” Regis said shaking the dust out of his own hair. “you performed Admirably.”

Geralt dusted himself off as well and then turned to Roach and dusted the horse off. She snorted and sneezed too, causing him to grin. 

The troll rumbled in smug satisfaction and began to walk down the path.

“Geralt I…” Regis started as Geralt hefted himself back onto Roach’s back. Geralt looked down to the vampire who stood gripping his bag. The vampire smiled Sadly and shook his head. “Nevermind…”

“Regis…” Geralt rumbled leaning down slightly. 

“Never-mind Geralt… lets get going.” Regis hopped up onto Vlad. “We will loose our troll friend if not.”

Regis kicked vlad into action and took off after the troll who’s ling strides had took him down the path a ways. 

So… that’s how it is. Geralt thought sourly squeezing roach with his legs and wincing at his knee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fav lines
> 
> "Blind as a...."
> 
> And the whole lambert tattoo line
> 
> BAT REGIS AND MARKING
> 
> Regis being insecure about his smell (could it be he was masking his scent cause he thought it was gross and not becuase you could tell he was a vampire?)
> 
> HAHHAHAHA
> 
> AND MORVOVIO MY TROLL GRANDPA I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED TILL I WROTE HIM
> 
> I LOVE HIM
> 
> HE IS MY FRIEN
> 
> BEST FRIEN
> 
> OMG
> 
> And Geralt is back to being a potato again
> 
> LOVE YOU ALL


	18. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt, Regis, and Morvovio, finally reach the end of the highway, and venture out. Mistakes are made, regrets are had, and realizations come to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta as usual! If you see something say something!

Geralt and Regis followed after the troll, the banter at first was forced due to Geralt’s sour mood but it soon improved as he and Regis tried to stump the troll with riddles. The troll for his part also bantered back and forth, and his rumbling laughter drove them on as they traveled.

A few hours later they arrived at a wall, and Geralt’s amulet began to pulse and vibrate.

“See!” The troll wailed. “Out gone!” 

Geralt approached the wall on Roach and looked at it closely. 

“It’s here, just disguised.” Geralt said fishing the eye of Nehaleni out of his pack. He aimed it at the rocks and activated the magic. The wall disintegrated in front of them flooding their eyes with blinding sunlight. They were facing west and the sun was setting. Geralt and Regis both hissed and the horses danced under them their own eyes likely hurting from the sudden influx of light. Geralt willfully narrowed his eyes as small as they would go to the point where they were cramping. He blinked several times and brought his hand up to shield himself. 

“OUT.” The troll galloped in front of them holding his injured arm up and running out into a valley that was filled to the brim with long mountain grass and wild flowers. The horses danced in excitement as Geralt finally released Axii on them. Geralt hopped off Roach, and Regis took the hint to do the same. 

“let em run.” Geralt said. “we’ll follow, they’ll find water.” 

The troll rumbled past them laughing and throwing flowers up into the air, his feet shaking the ground as he passed. Geralt smiled as he set roach free and she took off like a shot. Vlad followed immediately afterwards, both horses ran and galloped and jumped, and nipped at one another. 

“If you roll with your pack on no carrots for a month.” Geralt said taking off at a brisk walk after the horses. As they bounced and bucked through the field like yearlings. 

Geralt stole a look at Regis who was smiling at the sight. Geralt felt his chest tighten again and frowned. 

“Where do you suppose we are?” Regis asked pulling the map from his pack and unfolding it. 

Geralt took the opportunity to sidle up next to the vampire as they walked the warm sun and cool breeze ruffling Regis’s hair.

“Damian said the path let out in the Amel’s next to Belhaven.” Geralt said reaching across the map and pointing to a small area where the rivers met and split. 

“We high valley.” The troll said finally slowing down enough to approach the two as they walked. 

“First trees, then cliff.” The troll said snorting. “Morvovio know way down.”

Roach raced back with vlad trailing behind and nudged and nipped at Geralt’s hair. Geralt absently turned and scratched on her neck vigorously. The horse made happy grunting noises and finally squealed before racing back into the distance kicking all the while. 

“Horsey like you.” The troll said and rumbled to himself. “Morvovio hungry, no eat horse. Can cook?”

“I think we can cook if you would like us to.” Regis said smiling again as he watched the horses race around the valley. 

“We are gonna need a lot of meat Regis.” Geralt looked pointedly at the vampire.

“Nothing that can’t be arranged.” Regis said cryptically. 

Geralt sighed.

As the Witcher, troll, and vampire approached the trees, Geralt got a good look at the crystal’s on the trolls back. They caught the light and refracted it every which way. The look of them was familiar somehow. He had never seen that coloring before on a troll, nor had he seen crystals that large. 

“Geralt we are going to need to set up camp soon if I am to tend to your stitches and help Morvovio with his arm.” Regis said looking westward to the sun. “They should be ready to come out now yes?” 

Geralt felt his neck. There was no tenderness left, just the itchy pull of the stitches. 

“Yup.” Geralt affirmed lazily scratching them.

“How is your knee?” Regis asked. The troll had taken interest and was walking slowly beside them.

“Functional.” Geralt said noting only the smallest amount of pain as he walked. 

“Good.” Regis said his tone clipped. Geralt narrowed his eyes at the vampire who was frowning and gripping at his bag again. Comfortableness raced through the bond. 

“You know I can feel that.” Geralt said his eyes narrowing at the vampire as he picked up the pace and followed the horses into the tree line. 

Geralt choked as what he was feeling from Regis snapped closed. He stumbled as the vampire kept walking. Hurt raced through him and he grabbed at his chest. Dettlaff must have sensed Geralt’s distress as he sent a wave of comfort sleepily over the bond. Geralt couldn’t put into any coherent thought what he was feeling at the moment only that what Regis had done had wounded him right down to his soul. 

Dettlaff’s presence woke up more, and began to wink into and out of existence. Sending comfort in intermittent spurts while subsequently cutting himself off. Geralt winced and attempted to do the same. He felt the presence of Dettlaff flux like he was knocked into being mute and returning again. Contentment winked over the bond and the connection began to get sleepy again.

“Two can play at that game.” Geralt said under his breath and snapped the bond that connected him and Regis closed with a force he didn’t know he had. This time Regis stumbled and Geralt felt a petty sneer cross his face. Regis caught his footing and didn’t look back. 

They kept walking and soon caught up to the horses that had found a small medow and a stream that was running through it. Both horses were gulping at the water and Geralt instantly felt the need to do the same. He trotted over to the stream, and Dettlaff’s presence became angry, but it wasn’t aimed at him. Geralt winked his end of the bond to the vampire and sent comfort as he leaned down and took a gulp of the fresh mountain water. Regis was standing at the waters edge further down from Geralt and staring at the water like it had murdered his family. The frown that his face wore was one that was uncharacteristic. 

Regis huffed and turned towards the troll who had been oddly silent.

“Morvovio would you mind gathering some wood? A large amount please.” Regis spat his tone clipped. “I will be back later, get a fire going, and a spit made.” 

He quickly set down his bags and turned to mist. The mist whipped into the trees and disappeared in a matter of moments.

“You, friend?” Morvovio asked staring at the spot where Regis had been and had dropped his bags.

“Is prone to bouts of orneriness, just like anyone else.” Geralt sighed his chest still clenching tightly.

“Good friend?” Morvovio asked his large head turning towards Geralt with a creak. “Saw hand holdy. Morvovio hand holdy wife.”

Geralt couldn’t help his eyebrows raising. 

“You had a wife?” He asked as he approched Roach and began to unpack the blankets from her back and undo the saddle and saddle bags. She was damp from sweat and shook gratefully as she was freed. Last but not least he took her bit out of her mouth. She licked her lips and drank some more water in greedy gulps.

“Yes, wife.” Morvovio nodded as he watched Geralt. “She Ornery.”

Geralt couldn’t help but smile as he walked over to Vlad and began getting Regis’s bags and bedroll down.  
“Ornery good.” Morvovio said walking to the trees and Grinning. “Ornery, Fiesty. Make Morvovio Angry. Angry good.”

Geralt chuckled as he watched the troll pick up a downed tree and haul it into the clearing with his uninjured arm. 

“Angry good.” The troll said grunting and ripping into the tree trunk with practiced movements. The wood was broken down in a matter of seconds. Something that would have taken Geralt half a day to complete. “Angry good, angry good make cubs. Morvovio happy.”

The troll winked at him. Geralt felt his ears redden. He coughed as he finally caught the connotation. 

“Where is she?” Geralt asked busying himself with setting up the bedrolls.

“Gone.” Morvovio said wistfully and grumbled in his language. “Bad Mushroom.” 

“Sorry to hear that.” Geralt said wincing in empathy. 

“Many Cubs.” Morvovio said baring his teeth in what his species passed as a smile. “Boy cubs, Girl cubs. Many.”

“Where are they?” Geralt asked hoping his answer wasn’t as sad as the first. The troll looked northward.

“Went, long long walk.” Morvovio said his voice thoughtful and rumbling. “went find mate. Make many more cubs.”

Geralt smiled sadly.

“My girl just ventured out on her own for the first time too.” Geralt said satisfied with his bed, and hoping Regis would satisfied with his. 

“Sad. Happy.” The troll said shaking his head. “Leave fast, live fast. Morvovio Happy sad.”

“It is bittersweet.” Geralt said thinking on Ciri and wondering if she was having as much trouble as him on her way to Metinna. “She makes me proud though. She is strong.”

“Strong good!” The troll said hitting his chest with his hand. “Cubs strong, cubs live.”

Geralt nodded and watched as the Troll walked over to another downed tree and began disassembling it into firewood. Geralt in turn turned to the trees and found two suitable for posts, and a third that could function as a spit. He began working away at the wood with a hatchet from his saddlebags and before long he had it set up to his liking. He dug a two holes and set the posts upright. 

The sun was setting in earnest now. Reds and oranges flashed through the sky as light clouds pittered their way across the expanse. A chill breeze whipped through the trees and Geralt shuddered. The shadows of the mountains had crossed into the small meadow. 

“Alright lets get this thing lit.” Geralt said as the troll sat down and looked at him. Geralt pointed his fingers at the pile and released a stream of Igni. The heat from the blast lit the wood up and began to heat the small clearing. Geralt looked around and the horses had moved to eating at the sweet grass. Sighing he sat down on his bedroll and did a quick sweep with his senses. Nothing was around but a small pack of wolves that had downed a deer and were eating some distance away. They wouldn’t be a bother. 

Geralt began stripping his armor off and setting it next to his bedroll. The troll regarded him curiously as the layers came off and Geralt set his swords down with care. Regis’s scent was still all over his armor, and the smell of the fading scent caused Geralt to frown. He quickly removed the last of his armor, and then removed his boots. He then walked over to the small creek and removed his undershirt and shorts and dashed into the cold waters. 

The cold water cleared his mind as he knelt in the shallow stream and undid his hair. Using the sand that had settled at the bottom he scrubbed his skin, and then he leaned forward and dunked his head into the water. He used the sand to scrub at his scalp and then let the water wash it away. He flug his head back and rung out his hair, then stood up. A shiver ran through him as he made his way back to his underclothes pulled his shorts on hastily and went running towards the fire. He sighed as he sunk down in front of the heat. 

“Dh’oine seen many battles.” The troll rumbled as Geralt pulled his bed roll closer to the fire. Geralt flopped down and sighed as the heat enveloped him and began to dry his wet skin. 

“Yes, and technically I am a witcher.” Geralt said allowing his eyes to catch the light and reflect back to the troll. The troll narrowed his eyes. 

“Snake eye Dh’oine.” The troll rumbled approaching closer and sitting next to Geralt and regarding him. 

They sat for several minutes as the sky’s red deepened. Two thuds behind Geralt startled him.

“Barber surgeon!” The troll said happily regarding Regis who stood looking down at Geralt. 

Geralt looked to the deer. They had been cleaned, skinned, and drained. He regarded Regis for a moment with narrow eyes.

“I didn’t drink.” Regis said coldly.

“Didn’t imply that you did.” Geralt said huffing and standing up. He felt Regis’s eyes crawl up his body which was still damp from the stream, and his hair was down and sticking to his back. The small rush of blood to Regis’s face and the thickening smell of rain, and that other telltail smell thickened the air. The vampire quickly turned to the Troll.

“Morvovio my manners have been atrocious. Please come over here with me and we will look at your arm properly.” Regis said his tone clipped. “Geralt… if you would… see to the deer.”

“Yes sir.” Geralt said grabbing the spit rod and skewing the deer. The mixed signals Geralt was picking up on was driving him crazy. He fished into his bag and found the salt and some of the spices he had swipped from the kitchen with a liberal dose of garlic, just to spite Regis, and coated the deer. With a heft he used his own super human strength to set the rod in place and begin cooking the overly large meal. He watched Regis and the troll as they talked in hushed tones away from the fire. Geralt slowly spun the spit with his hands glad for the distraction. The first thing he caught over the roar of flames was an excited exclamation of “Beggertick!” From the troll. The second was the trolls prompt screaming and a sickening sounding crunch shortly there after. 

Geralt looked at the two of them. Regis had set the trolls arm, and it was now sitting at the correct angle. He had gotten ahold of some rope somewhere and had made a cast and splint for the troll who was now thanking him even though tears streamed down the large beings face. Regis was talking to the troll warmly and the troll was speaking back in gravely hushed tones. Regis’s expression was sad and Geralt felt his chest tighten. He didn’t like seeing him like that.

Icy realization hit Geralt with all the subtlety of a shalemar. The situation that had happened earlier had touched on Geralt’s own raw nerves. Nerves he had thought he had come to terms with over the years, but here they were obviously open and in pain. Yennefer used to shut him out then run away. He had instantly reacted to Regis the way he would have Yen. A pattern he hadn’t even realized he had acquired to that moment. He seethed at himself as his eyes brought in the gentle touches that Regis gave the troll as he talked. 

This pattern ended now.

Geralt threw the bond back open, and let his distress through like a river. Something was happening between him and Regis that Geralt was slow to understand but was now grasping. The second he compared Regis to Yennefer he knew. And the second he compared Regis to Yennefer he kicked himself because there was no comparison. Regis was his own person. Regis, who had been through absolute horrifying hell in the weeks leading up to their reunion, but still pushed straight to him. Regis who lived through years of hell before that only to be stabbed through by his best friend to protect Geralt. Regis who by all rights had lived through some of the single worst experiences a being could go through, and instead of coming out hard and calloused he came out soft spoken and empathetic. 

Geralt was still, frozen in place, anguish washing over him like a Tsunami. He felt revulsion at himself tear through his insides. That same feeling of self loathing that he had had years before snaking it’s way around him and coiling around his soul, threatening to suffocate him. Regis was a thinking, caring, loving, passionate being. And Geralt knew that he had placed an unfair expectation on the vampire without even giving him a chance. 

A soft cold hand on his bare shoulder, and the sudden but welcome trickle of comfort from Regis through the bond, caused Geralt to start shaking. His body was trying yet again unsuccessfully to cry. Emotion choked him and he looked to the vampires eyes which were a warm brown in the firelight. He tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come out. He looked at Regis pain written all over his face. Regis broke and quickly enveloped him his lean strong arms pulling Geralt close.

Geralt melted into the touch the smell of rain water, deers blood, and medicinal herbs a roaring comfort that the being in front of him was real, solid, and not going away. Geralt felt his body shivering with emotion as Regis put his clawed hands on his bare shoulders and tightened his grip. 

Geralt pushed back and looked at Regis in the eyes and brought his hands between them to grab Regis’s head. He placed his forhead on the vampires, and the vampire mimiced his movements, his fingers entangling in Geralt’s still damp hair. Geralt scowled as the anger at himself crested and he tried to press Regis phisically into him. 

“I am not going to shut you out.” Geralt seethed. “Never, never going to shut you out, not again. I am stupid, wounded. I don’t know which way is up anymore. You ground me, always have. I can’t loose that. I can’t loose you Regis. Don’t cry… don’t….”

Regis’s kiss was forceful and Geralt melted into it. He tangled his hand into the vampire’s hair as he attempted to increase the proximity of them. Geralt knew Regis had smelled like rain, but when the vampire opened his mouth to him it was like tasting a storm. Electric, terrifying, powerful and beautiful. Geralt wanted to loose himself to the feeling, wanted to disappear and be pushed by the winds. Geralt pulled away the intensity to much and gripped back onto the vampire his arms holding Regis to him and he breathed into the vampire’s shoulder. 

“You stupid man.” Regis whispered with no heat. “You stupid, horrible, brave, man. You will not loose me. I have old injuries as well that I had never realized were still infected. You picked at them let me know they were still there and still angry. I am sorry. I am flawed, deeply, and troublingly so. I only hope you give me the chance to….”

It was Geralt this time that kissed the vampire. This one Gentile but with no less feeling. When they pulled apart Geralt rested his forehead against the vampire’s both of them breathing in the other as they calmed. 

The smell of burning caused Geralt to pull back suddenly and launch himself towards the spit. 

“Fuck… Fuck fuck fuck.” Geralt said quickly turning the spit again rotating the deer so that the side that had been burning faced away from the fire. 

Regis laughed and wiped at his face with a handkerchief. 

“Barbor Surgon, Dh’oine friend, No ornery?” The troll said holding a pile of what looked like rocks and dropping them to the ground.

“Yes we got it figured out.” Geralt said glancing at Regis and catching the small unguarded smile on the vampires face. 

“What are those Morvovio?” Regis said walking over to the pile.

“Sweet rocks!” The troll picked one up and broke it in half delicately revealing a bright purple inside. 

Geralt felt his mouth water.

The three worked to tend the fire and cook the food. Regis doing most of it, while Geralt tended the spit and the troll began to weave unevenly. Regis had given him a bottle of the same potion he had given Geralt to ease his pain when his neck was infected from the bruxa bite. The fact that Geralt and the troll had taken the same amount and somehow Geralt wasn’t dead was not lost on him. Regis had stripped off his shirt and reached into the flames to grab embers and arrange them to cook the sweet yam’s the troll had found tending them and flipping them to keep them from burning while Geralt slowly worked the deer over the open flames. 

When it was ready all three of them dug in ravenously the troll more so then Geralt and Regis, as he hadn’t eaten in a couple of weeks. The troll ate everything, bones, gristle, anything his mouth could touch. When Regis and Geralt had had their fill and sat allowing the fire to warm them the troll was still eating flecks of meat and pieces of the yams littering his face and hands. Regis eventually stood up and wandered over to the creek and washed his hands with some soap and got the soot off of him from the fire.

When he came back the troll was still half chewing a leg of the deer held firmly in his hands with his eyes drooping. Geralt watched in amusement as the troll nodded off and eventually fell over with a resounding crash. He was still chewing as he slept. Roach and Vlad had settled down as well. Roach had laid down in the grass and Vlad had laid next to her his chin resting in the center of her back as they slept, the only sign the horses were alive was their steady breathing and the occasional flick of the ears or flare of the nostrils. 

Regis came back to Geralt and positioned himself behind him.

“Let me look at your neck.” Regis said causing Geralt to crane his neck to the side to allow Regis access. 

Geralt felt a sharp tug and heard Regis snipping away at the stitches with a set of sheers. Geralt had to resist the urge to reach up and scratch at them as Regis removed the stitches one by one. When the pulling stopped Geralt reached up and vigorously scratched at the spot groaning with pleasure at being able to finally touch the area and relive the itch that had been there for a few days.

“I am still amazed at how fast you heal Geralt… with this especially.” Regis said pushing Geralt’s hand away and running his finger tips along the scar. Geralt bit his lip as the touch and felt his eyes blow open. Trying to school his reaction he laid himself backwards his head coming to rest on Regis’s knees. He looked up at the vampire. 

“Regis, what are we?” He asked his voice carrying an unguarded innocence to it that caused Regis’s eyes to widen and his brow to furrow. 

“I… I don’t know Geralt.” Regis said looking into the fire. 

Geralt closed his eyes to school the pain that threatened to overtake him.

“But not knowing doesn’t mean that I am not willing to figure it out.” Regis said stoking Geralt’s hair. “If anything I appreciate a challenge more then most. You will have to forgive my trepidation. We vampires feel things extremely keenly and it can be overwhelming for me. I need to be able to process things at my own pace, and I am sure you need to do the same.”

“I don’t know what I am doing.” Geralt said the admission wounding his pride. “Dandelion’s stories do not even touch the truth of the matter. When I was with Yennifer she tried to get me to say I loved her, without telling me that’s what she wanted. It was our first big fight. Apparently she resigned herself to never hearing it, and one day we were sitting down to eat and it just hit me. And I said it. She was talking a million miles a minute about something inane, but when it registered to her what I said she actually was as confused as I was when I said it. She said she loved me too of course, but yeah. I am not good at this despite the stories. Never have been.”

Regis chuckled still stroking Geralt’s hair as he looked into the fire. Geralt felt his eyes getting heavy and he sighed relaxing into the touches.

“Get some rest Geralt. I’ll take the watch.” Regis said as Geralt yawned. Geralt sat up long enough to pull his blanket over himself and settled back down with his head in Regis’s lap. The vampire resumed stroking and before Geralt knew it he was drifting off. His last hazy memory was Regis humming a familiar lullaby as the vampire stared into the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHAHAHAHAHAHAH
> 
> THEY KISSED
> 
> GOOD KISS HAHHAHHAH
> 
> ok now that I am settled, and I have likely thuroughly freaked out the guy I am sitting across from at Starbucks for crying while I quick edited... YES
> 
> THEY ARE FIGURING IT OUT
> 
> AND I STILL LOVE MORVOVIO
> 
> HE IS MY TROLL GRANDPA.


	19. Trek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Regis continue their trek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual no beta... if you see something say something!
> 
> more plot setup... funtimes

Geralt woke in the morning a chill in the air. Looking at the trees through the first light of dawn he could see them beginning to turn. The air was cold but Regis had kept the fire going all night so though his breath was chilled in the air he felt warm and safe. Geralt looked around for the vampire and saw him at the creek shaving his face with the straight razor the same way he had at the house, with ruthless efficiency. 

Geralt looked around and spotted the horses up and grazing the sweet grass their breath coming in snorting clouds. Geralt pushed himself up and looked around for his clothes and armor. He made a customary sweep with his senses. The troll was still asleep and snoring. The wolves from the night previous were still full and camped around their kill, sleeping. Some of the younger ones were up and wrestling judging by the small sounds of playful growls and yips coming from the distant pack. Deer were on all sides of the meadow grazing with the horses and keeping a wary eye on the vampire, witcher and troll as they began to stir. 

The sky was clear and the birds were chirping in a cacophony made from the first of vestiges of Valen as Geralt hauled himself over to his clothes and armor and began slipping them on. The crows began to call as Geralt moved. Regis looked over to him as he finished shaving and quickly rinsed his tools off and let them start to dry in the morning air. He jogged over to Geralt in his tunic and pants as Geralt sat down to pull his pants on.

“Before you do that let me see your knee.” Regis said. “I am going to re-bandage it. If we are close to Belhaven I will re-supply there.”

Geralt grunted as Regis unwound the bandage. 

“Sore today.” Geralt said wincing as Regis wiped off the leftovers of the poultice and began prodding delicately at the joint. 

“It is cold today. I know we are up in the mountains, but the chill feels stark compared to how warm it was till a few days ago.” Regis said as he began to massage Geralt’s knee and calf. Geralt fell back and groaned as the pressure worked at the knots in his legs he didn’t realize he had. 

“If you keep doing that I am going to fall right back to sleep.” Geralt said shuddering as the tension leaked it’s way out of the limb and blood began to flow properly around the injury. 

“Your other leg is likely just as big of a mess as this one.” Regis said absently pressing firmly against a knot in Geralt’s thickly muscled calf that caused him to hiss. “Only have time for one this morning. When we stop tonight I’ll go over both. Your other leg is compensating for this one, and has for years. It’s a wonder you don’t have a limp.”

“You can’t see it, but when I fight any witcher worth his salt can see I leave my groin open because I have modified my stance so I don’t wind up killing myself. Loosing my junk is a small price to pay for keeping my life by my estimation.” Geralt said as Regis stopped and the smell of the salve flooded his nose. “Luckily no one has swiped me down there.”

“It would be such a waste for you to be sterile and a eunuch. No fun at all.” Regis quipped causing Geralt to snort.

“May as well be one.” Geralt snorted. “It’s been languishing as of late. I can’t even find the energy to go to the whore house, though now that I know it’s infested with bruxa, I don’t think I want to set foot in it again.”

“Bruxa you say?” Regis asked raising his brow as he massaged the salve in. “How did you figure that out.”

“Ciri.” Geralt groused. “Like father like daughter apparently.”

“I didn’t know she had a proclivity towards women.” Regis said fascinated. 

“I don’t think it matters to her what the gender is.” Geralt said thinking on it. “She’ll sleep with any woman without preamble, a result of her first real relationship while she was separated from Yennifer and I. With men, it’s a little different. I don’t think she would turn down the chance, but she is more hesitant with men seeing all she has been through.”

“Also like father like daughter.” Regis chuckled. “If I didn’t know any better I would swear you were truly related by blood. Her hair is so blond it’s almost white. You are both pig headed and strong willed. But the second you find a crack in the armor you are both mushy sweethearts who want the best from everyone.”

“Speaking of hair,” Geralt said as Regis re-wrapped his leg. “I better get that rune Yennifer gave me out after I get my armor on. I am going to pack my steal sword under Roach’s blanket and just carry Aerondight. Hate to chip the damned silver on this thing it’s expensive to replace and repair, but if I have to use it against humans I will. If I don’t pack one of the swords away they will know I am a Witcher immediately, even if I am normal colored.”

“I would suggest you just carry the steal sword as Aerondight is monster of a sword.” Regis said scrutinizing his work. “But I also am aware that the silver is more useful the steal, and were we to run into monsters I would be remiss to see the results if you didn’t have silver at the ready.”

Geralt grunted in agreement as Regis patted his leg a couple times and stood up. 

Morvovio sat up straight the creak and groan of the crystals shifting on his skin grinding through the cool air. He blinked a couple of times and then looked down at his hands, which still held the deer’s leg. He happily began to eat on it again causing Geralt to chuckle. 

“Dh’oine leg hurt?” The troll said between chewing as Geralt sat up and began to pull on his pants and leg armor. 

“Yeah, old injury.” Geralt said standing and starting to pull on the rest of the armor and strap it into place. 

“Yes an old injury I have told him many times over the years to fix.” Regis groused as he pulled a piece of meet from the deer and put it on a piece of hard tack with some cheese he had brought out of his bags.

“Should listen Barbor Surgon, squishy Dh’oine.” The troll nodded sagely between bites. “Know he.”

“Yeah I need to work on that.” Geralt said tightening the belts and then walking over to his swords. He picked them up and placed them over at his bedroll then grabbed some hard tac and cheese and enjoyed his breakfast. 

The three ate and conversed, and Geralt took his swords out and began to oil them. After he did so he began to saddle and pack the horses. While Regis packed up his things and dressed, the troll walked over to the creek and suprising both Geralt and regis he splashed around the shallow cold water and washed the leftovers off of himself. After everything was packed and ready, and the troll and Regis had put out the fire all three separated off into the woods to relive themselves. Something that had amused Geralt. 

“You didn’t think that the food just magically disappeared?” Regis said laughing as he misted himself into the trees. 

To be honest Geralt kind of did. 

When they all three met again and Geralt got the bits into the horses mouths, Geralt pulled out the rune stone and looked at it. 

“Magic rock?” The troll said stomping up to Geralt as he stood examining it.

“Yeah, it’s supposed to change my appearance to what I would look like without the mutations.” Geralt said trepidation in his voice. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what to feel about it.”

“Dh’oin ok.” The troll said confusion in his voice. “Snow hair, Snake eyes. Strong. Many battles.”

“Yeah, but this will give a glimpse of what might have been had I not gone through the mutations.”

“Mutations?” The troll murmured mumbling in his own language again. 

“Yeah, changes, magic changes.” The troll nodded in understanding.

“It’s now or never, and it may as well be now.” Regis said placing his arm on Geralt’s shoulder.

“Yeah… heh.” Geralt laughed. “I don’t know why I feel so nervous.”

Regis squeezed his shoulder and geralt sighed. He activated the magic and his amulet vibrated lowly as it traveled over him like oil. Geralt was armored from head to toe and couldn’t see any of the changes outright, but when he looked up to a patch of hair that had fallen forward it caught the sun and was a bright copper red. Geralt pulled it in front of his eyes and blinked.

He looked over to Regis and The troll. Regis was staring at him his eyes wide. 

“Is it that bad?” Geralt said touching his face where his beard was starting to grow in again.

“It’s not bad.” Regis said slowly. “Just different.”

Regis fished into his bag and got out the onyx mirror and handed it to Geralt. Geralt held it up to his face and blinked. Hazel eyes blinked back at him. His face was ruddy, and full to the brim with freckles. His skin was still pale and pink, but the freckles created a bridge across his nose and cheeks. His hair was a bright copper color. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered looking like this before his mutations, but younger, smooth and chubby cheeked. He pondered himself for a moment examining the bags under his eyes that had replaced the dark skin of his eyelids. 

“I don’t know what I expected.” Geralt said shaking his head and handing the mirror back to Regis. “I had forgotten my hair was red.”

“You remember before?” Regis asked stowing the mirrior away. 

“I do.” Geralt said. “But when you are a boy and your young, and training, and have no idea how much you will change during the mutations, you kind of take everything for granted. It’s like it’s me, but not me. The me that was.”

Regis nodded.

“I will say this, I much prefer your other variation.” Regis said simply picking up Geralt’s hair. “I have only ever known you as you normally look, so this is like a pale imitation of who I know you are.”

“So was it as bad as Lambert had feared?” Regis said curiosity in his eyes.

“Lambert is a tool sometimes.” Geralt said snorting and moving to adjust the pack on Roach’s back. “He forgets that the only damned change that took him practically was the yellowing of his eyes and the slits. Nothing else about him looked different. Even his eye color was a honey brown ranging on amber, not that big of a change. He has always resented his mutations and his path, mostly because of how he joined the path and what happened to his mother afterwards. He was the oldest boy we had ever had taken at the keep, and one of Vesemir’s surprise children. He remembered much more of his time before then someone like me who was practically raised at the keep.”

“He seemed genuinely concerned about your well-being though.” Regis said watching as the troll lumbered into the woods and began uprooting a tree. 

“It’s probably because after I went through my second round of mutations happened everyone called me pretty boy.” Geralt groused. “I hated it, and used to punch him when he said it. Probably thought I regretted everything as much as he did.”

“Do you regret it?” Regis asked as Geralt hefted himself up on onto Roach.

“Maybe?” Geralt said and Regis stroked Vlad’s nose. “It’s hard to regret something when it is all I have ever known. Did I resent my inability to make decisions about my own future? In a way yes. But I learned as I got older that I could still control it if I wanted to. The illusion of being a witcher is that we are neutral, and always will back out emotionless and cold from situations. I never could, and I would help always where I could. They couldn’t break me of that.”

“A sensible answer.” Regis nodded and hopped up on Vlad. 

The troll lumbered up causing the horses to dance. He had a tree hung over his shoulder.

“How is your arm Morvovio?” Regis asked causing the troll to look at it.

“Hurty, better.” The troll said rotating the large limb and it’s splint. 

“Would you mind leading the way?” Regis asked and the troll brightened. 

“Follow!” The troll said lumbering forward with his long and quick gate. 

They road for a half hour or so the sun still low in the sky before the troll started down a path that side winded down the steep cliff face of the mountain. The view was breathtaking, and the small town of Belhaven was twinkling below them, surrounded by mountains bathed in the mornings light. They continued following the path into the trees, and then from there into the valley where the trees had been cleared.

As they approached the town a call went up and a bell rang out. Several men came rushing out including one who was flanked by the others. Geralt went instantly on guard but when he finally saw the expressions of the men he eased the tension that had built up in his shoulders.

“MORVOVIO WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!?” Geralt Recognized the pin on the man’s forest green tunic. It was the alderman, flanked by the mayor. The troll galloped towards the men holding his uninjured hand up. Several more people flocked outside the gate.

“Morvovio sorry, got stuck, got hurty.” The Alderman let the troll approach with a familiarity that warmed Geralt to his core. He placed a small hand on the troll’s injured arm.

“Earth shakey! Morvovio stuck, rock fall, bad rock!” Morvovio practically bellowed. “Dh’oine and Barber surgeon help, fix Morvovio, bring outside. Feed Morvovio. Morvovio friend!”

The alderman turned his attention to Geralt and Regis.

“Thank you friends, without him we would be done for.” The Alderman said approaching the two men on horseback. “I have bad news however, the plague that is effecting Toussaint made it’s appearance here. A merchant trader lays sick, and no one will go near him. You may want to turn back.”

“Nonsence.” Regis said “Show me to this man, I will do what I can for him.”

The Alderman walked quickly forward and the troll fell into step beside him. 

“The earthquake destroyed the arch in the center of the square. It also collapsed the Tait’s house.” The Alderman said addressing Morvovio.

“Cub ok?” The troll asked obviously taken aback.

“The children are fine. The only injury we had was from old man Gates who knocked his head and needed stiches when he lost his balance. The crush is happening, everyone was outside harvesting or celebrating when the earthquake happened.”

The troll visibly sagged in relief as they approached the gate and walked through.

“Morvovio if you could help us clear debris and help us rebuild the house we would be eternally grateful. I have several barrels of wine for you as well as supplies for fire and wire for trapping.” The Mayor said taking over the Alderman’s spot.

“Morvovio help.” The troll nodded looking at Regis and Geralt. “Help sick, see Morvovio after.”

Geralt and Regis said their goodbyes and followed the Alderman, while the mayor lead the troll to the center of town.

“How long as he been ill?” Regis asked. “And has anyone been exposed to him?”

“He arrived here with a fever, he came from Beauclair.” The Alderman said. “The village doctor has been exposed to him as well as several of his assistants and a butcher who had come to trade with the man. We quarantined them as soon as we realized what was going on.”

“I happen to have the cure, and the directions to make more.” Regis said. “I will give the man a visit and give him a shot. The cure takes little time to make and the ingredients needed are around here in abundance this time of year. There is also a vaccination, which I can give the directions to an alchemist to derive. Do you have an alchemist?”

“Yes we do, I will bring him after you see the man that’s sick.” The Alderman said with breathless relief. “I can’t thank you enough master Barbour surgeon. It’s fate that brought you here to us, and you brought us Morvovio back! Meletele bless you and your offspring good sirs.”

When they got to the tent that had been set up, the man was inside resting on a palate and was reading a book. He looked fevered but coherent. Regis and Geralt disembarked trusting their horses to find their own way to the watering troughs. 

Regis did a quick examination, and nodded. It was the plague, but it wasn’t far enough along to cause serious complications. He gave the man the shot, and relief shot through him. About the time Regis had completed this task the doctor burst in.

“Just who do you think you are?” The doctor growled. 

“My name is Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, I am a barber surgeon hailing from Beauclair.” Regis said looking at the man cooly.

“What are you doing to my patent?” The Doctor seethed as he checked the man over, who yelped with indignation. 

“I am sorry for the rough introduction. I have come to your village with the cure to this horrible plague as well as immunization’s. I have the instructions on my person on how to create it.”

The doctor straightened up and regarded Regis with wide eyes. 

“I…. I am Deeply sorry for that outburst.” The doctor said visibly relaxing. “Strange things have been happening lately and everyone is on edge.”

Regis pulled out a syringe of the cure and a syringe of the Immunization, and two small pieces of paper with instructions. He handed them to the doctor who looked them over in surprise.

“I can’t believe this.” The doctor staggered. “I saw Morvovio and I knew something was up. Who is your friend?”

“This is… Drake.” Regis said looking up to Geralt in apology as Geralt winced. “He is a sellsword that I hired to protect me as we go through here and distribute the cure to the outlying communities. Can’t be to careful with all the monsters and bandits on the roads these days.”

“Right you are.” The doctor said reaching over to shake regis’s hand. He reached for Geralt’s as well which surprised the witcher. Then he remembered he didn’t look like what he was and he took the man's hand firmly. “Thank you both, thank you both so much. We owe you. Is there anything we can do to repay you?”

Regis nodded.

“There is actually, I need to resupply.” Regis said earnestly. “Between Morvovio and Drake here I have exhausted my collection of bandages.”

“Please then, follow me, my clinic is just across the way.” The Doctor said turning. 

“Peter, you feeling better?” The doctor said looking down at the man on the palate. 

“Would be better if you hadn’t come in here loud as a bull elk and molesting me like a drunk woman.” The man on the palate groused picking his book back up. “I am fine.”

“Let him rest for a few days before letting him go out. The cure only stops the plague, and it will take a couple of days for his body to recover.”

“Right right.” The doctor said turning and opening the tent up.

“Follow me Gentleman.” The doctor said moving with a purpose across the dirt road.

Regis and Geralt walked outside the tent and saw Morvovio walking down the road with a large block of stone followed by the village children who were talking to the giant troll a million miles a minute. Geralt was awestruck. He had never seen people so at peace with a monster walking in their midst. The friendly nods he got as well were disconcerting. The nods or the complete ignoring of his presence. The only scowl he got so far was from an old women who had taken exception to his long hair. He had nearly laughed at her. 

They entered the doctors office, across which there was a scroll that read “Quarantine, keep out.”

“Precaution only.” The doctor said leading them inside. “I got exposed to the plague many years ago and survived it’s effects with little to no discomfort other then swollen lymph nodes for a week. They are being extra cautious since the plague in Beauclair.”

“Don’t blame them.” Geralt rumbled. “Been exposed myself, had to dispose of victims. It’s not a pretty death.”

“Indeed it’s not.” The doctor said leading them back to a room that had several palates laid out and ready. He went to one of the chests and pulled out a large roll of linen bandages. 

“How much do you need?” He asked fishing around. “And do you need anything else… truly?”

“No we don’t, but I am curious what your villages’ relationship with the troll is.” Regis said “He seems well liked.”

“He is. He has been visiting on and off for generations apparently.” The doctor said. “The alderman says he is lonely and likes to be around people. So far, and we have record of this. He has been around for nearly 150 years. All he does is come down the mountain occasionally. Eat, drink, help out around the town, and then takes a couple cases of wine back to the mountain top. He is fond of children and the children of course are fond of him. For something so large he can be exceedingly gentle. Because he is fond of children we have all grown up around here with him, so he is just a part of the village.”

Regis nodded as Geralt looked around at the rather sterile environment. 

“He helped us when we were lost in the caves.” Geralt said. “He broke his arm, a fete for a troll to do. Regis here set it using some technique I didn’t catch.”

“How on earth did you manage that?” The doctor asked handing Regis the bandages. 

“Leverage, my friend, leverage.” Regis said. “You can move a marble base stone with a single pebble if you know how.”

“Are you sure there is nothing more we can do?” The doctor said. “At least stay for lunch.”

“We have a long way to ride…” Regis looked at Geralt, who looked like a dog begging at a table, his hazel eyes wide. Then his stomach mage a noise. 

“But my friend here’s stomach has spoken rather plainly it seems.” Regis sighed and smiled.

“Come on, I know the best tavern in town.”

They were not disappointed in the food, and they were joined by the alderman, and the mayor. The food was a potted roast with thick gravy, more of the purple yams, carrots, mushrooms and leeks. Geralt ate like a starving man while Regis schooled his intake, which was hard to do because it was very delicious. They both listened to the mayor and the alderman, and the doctor, all of which were talking animatedly about the crushing season and getting it done before the first frosts. 

“Did the witcher come back through yet?” The alderman asked the mayor. The mayor shook his head. “

“No, he was heading for Beauclair, big man, scarred face. More scared then gingers.” The Mayor said causing Geralt to blush. “He told me he had been called to Toussaint by a friend and he would stop back by on his way through.”

“Did he wear a medallion?” Geralt asked trying to sound more surly about it then he felt. 

“Yes he did. A Wolf.” Geralt nodded. Had to have been Eskel. “The bloke said he would be back as soon as he was able.”

“Got an issue?” Geralt asked despite himself. 

“Yeah, we have both a specter problem and a necrophage problem in the crypt.” The man said. “Gonna pay him good coin to figure it out.”

Geralt nodded thanking the powers that be that they couldn’t see through his disguise. 

“Witchers are worth their weight in gold.” Geralt said sopping up the gravy with some fresh baked bread that made his toes curl. “You know my dad told me they were a mennace at one point. Said they were nothing but evil. But I got saved by one when I was young. They are men just like any other.”

“My father said something similar.” The alderman said. “I can’t remember the last time a witcher stopped through here. Must have been when Geralt of Rivia, and Milton De Parac Payren, and whoever the other knight was rushed through on their way to the Duchy. Have you seen him Regis? This Geralt fellow?”

“I have actually.” Geralt eyed Regis with narrowed eyes. 

“There is a man that exemplifies the trade and the stories.” The mayor said. “I have never seen someone so intimidating in all my life.”

Geralt regarded the man curiously. 

“You know, I have only ever interacted with him at his Estate in Beauclair.” Regis said pretending to ponder. “He didn’t really look intimidating then, just rather sunburned and bedraggled because he had been fixing a vine post.”

The Alderman and the mayor leaned in with wide eyes. 

“He owns an estate?” The doctor had gotten in on the conversation too. “How did that come to be?”

“Apparently he did some sort of grand favor for the Ex-Dutchess.” Regis said his lips twitching slightly as he spoke. “Then he was put into prison after figuring out she was a traitor to the crown, and she hoped to kill him. He was rescued by the bard Dandelion of all things. And then given the deed to the estate by the emperor himself.”

Geralt groaned internally. That is not how it went at all. Regis knew it, Geralt knew it. Regis was having way more fun with this then he should have. 

“I knew it!” the Alderman slammed his mug down. “Dandelion came roaring through here on horseback a year past. I knew it was him! Off to rescue the witcher as usual.” 

“To the bard Dandelion.” Geralt said raising his glass. “And his continued service to the witcher Geralt, if nothing then for the amusing stories it has brought about.”

There were a chorus of Here-here’s and everyone drank. 

“Geralt himself though, is an eerie looking fellow.” The Mayor said looking from the Alderman to the doctor, both who nodded. “You seen him drake.”

“Naw, never seen him before.” Except in a mirror.

“He is Tall, about your height Drake.” The mayor said taking another swig of ale. “With hair as white as fresh snow and eyes like a cat. He looked at me as he passed, and I felt a chill go straight through me. I know he was human once, but there was nothing left human in him.”

“Oh come on.” Geralt said wrinkling his nose. “He’s human enough. Bet ya he shits just the same as you and me. I would bet my bags on it.”

There was a general guffaw of laughter from the men.

“You know I saw that vampire once.” The alderman said. “Geralt, he gave me the same chills that damned vampire did.”

“Bet vampires shit too.” Geralt said looking at Regis and raising his eyebrows mirth plastered across his face. This time the men doubled over in laughter. Regis smiled his lips tight and elbowed Geralt in the ribs.

“VAMPIRES SHITTING… OH GODS.” The alderman was laughing so hard tears were rolling down his face. 

“On that note Gentleman,” Regis said through the laughter. “I Do believe we shall be on our way. We have many miles yet to travel. We would like to speak to Morvovio however before we leave, and I personally would like to buy him a keg of your villages finest wine. He saved our lives, and we owe him much.”

The small party split up, with the mayor still laughing about the idea of shitting vampires. Geralt couldn’t help the grin plastered across his face. Regis chuckled softly.

“The winery is right around the corner here.” The Alderman said. “Go in and tell them I sent you. Morvovio should be in the village center removing the archway and salvaging what can be saved. Thank you again Gentleman. You are always welcome here.”

As they walked around the corner and a small ways down the road Geralt sighed.

“What is it friend?” Regis asked. 

“Is this what it is like always?” Geralt asked. “The men treated me nicely, like I was one of their own.”

“hmmmm Depends on the village honestly.” Regis said shrugging. “This one is exceptionally nice.”

“This small taste of normalcy,” Geralt said wistfully. “This is what could have been had I never been made a witcher.”

“This is likely what Lambert was talking about when he got so upset with Yennifer.” Regis smiled sadly. “He likely remembers the normalcy.”

“Maybe,” Geralt said. “But I think it’s probably more his mom.”

The two grew into contemplative quietness.

When they walked into the winery they were greeted with open arms. When Regis attempted to buy a barrel of their best for Morvovio the proprietor waved them off, saying he would happily give him some in their name. Geralt was still flabbergasted as they walked out and found the center of town. Morvovio was scratching his head and looking at an overly large boulder from the arch that fell. It was to big for him to move with an injured arm so he was puzzling about it with the men from the town. 

When Geralt and Regis approached he turned and smiled what his species passed as a smile, all snarling teeth and drool. Geralt found it highly endearing and walked to the troll.

“Dh’oine! Barber Surgeon. Morvovio work,” The troll said motioning to the stone. “Morvovio stumped, bad rock.”

“Would they be adverse to splitting it?” Regis asked. “You can certainty carve a channel in it and put a wedge, then whack it with that tree you picked up earlier.”

The troll pondered for a moment looking back and forth between the tree and the rock. 

“mmm work may. No squishy hurt. Rock go BOOM, go everywhere. Think… think….” The troll trailed off in his own language. 

“Morvovio, we have to go, we have a long journey in front of us.” Regis said and Geralt inclined his head. 

“Morvovio sad. But know.” The troll said lowering his head. “Much help, much fun. Visit Morvovio? Has wine? Morvovio like wine.”

To emphasize the point he licked his lips. 

“when we come back through we will stop by. Even if it’s only for a moment.” Regis said placing his hand on the large trolls uninjured arm. “I will need to check on that arm.”

“Dh’oine, Cub watch, grow quick. No Ornery, no time.” The troll said startling Geralt. “Must hunt, must feed, Must strong, for bad. Saovine. Saovine snow, death, Birke, Evil, dark. Much dark. Careful, no Ornery, No Ornery.”

Geralt felt himself grow cold. 

“How do you know this?” Geralt said his hazel eyes wide. 

“Morvovio dream.” The troll said shaking his head. “Morvovio have purpose. Guard pointy ears. Pointy ears come.”

“Thank you Morvovio.” Geralt said trying to shake the feeling out of himself. “Look, I own a winery, when I get the chance I will send you some of my own stock. I think you would like it, it’s sweet.”

“Morvovio love wine!” The troll said nodding happily. 

Regis touched the trolls arm again. This time scratching the surface of one of the crystals just enough to gather some dust. Geralt wouldn’t have caught it if he wasn’t keyed to looking out for subtle movements. The troll didn’t notice.

“You are an exelent friend Morvovio.” Regis sad sadly. “Your company will be missed but we must part.”

Geralt started to walk away and the troll spoke again.

“Barber Surgeon, Witcher. No ornery. Love.”

Geralt looked to Regis who’s cheeks tinged pink. 

“Thank you for the advice, see you friend.” Regis said smiling sadly as he walked away. 

Geralt waved to the troll and he waved back before turning to the rocks. 

“There are things we must speak about but not here.” Regis said in a whisper, looking down to the substance gathered by his claws. “Get the horses.”

Geralt whistled for roach, and a few seconds later the horse rounded a corner with Vlad in tow. Both of them had hay in their mouths. Geralt smiled as he mounted roach and Regis quickly mounted Vlad. Regis called Vlad to action and he took off through the down with Geralt following shortly behind.

 

Regis set a hard pace for the next few hours. They followed the road along the Newi River as it flowed north. Unlike the last time they had passed through here together the roads were clear of marching armies, and the biggest trouble was the occasional cart or Shepard. After several hours the sun was beginning to set again. Regis pressed on even though they had slowed. Roach was made for long distance overland travel at speed. It’s what she had been trained to do. Regis’s Destrider was made for war marches and quick bursts. His horse was quickly tiring.

They hit a crossroads and turned west following the road again. Regis slowed Vlad down to a walk and lead the horse off the trail and into a copse of trees surrounding a meadow. Geralt was content letting Regis lead. He knew this area. When they stopped finally there was a muddy stream, and enough grass for the horses to enjoy. 

Geralt hopped off Roach and quickly divested her of her load. This time he lead her over to the water and while she was drinking great gulps of the liquid he bent down into the water and splashed her and brushed the worst of the road dirt out of her fur. She nickered in appreciation as Geralt rubbed on her sore muscles. He hadn’t ridden her this hard in a while. She was soft. By the end of this trip she was likely to be lean and muscled again. He let her free and began to set up camp as Regis was doing the same thing with Vlad, but after the water he had begun rubbing a salve on the horse’s raw scars. The salve had aloe, white honey, beggertick, and cannabis oil in it. Geralt snorted as he realized that Regis leaned heavily on the tall growing skunk smelling weed.

He took Regis and he’s bedrolls and laid them out and began seeking out firewood. By the time camp was made the sky was a deep red. Geralt went over to the creek and saw the telltale sign of Trout, which were starting to spawn now that the weather was cooling. He realized that he and Regis had not spoke as he got the line out of his pack and attached a hook to it. The bond was wide open though and Regis was feeling calm, if a little tired. Geralt smiled and cast his line into the creek and gave it a good hard yank.

“How many of these things do you want?” Geralt asked as he pulled the fish up and tied it to a rope by it’s gills. 

“hmmmm I am awfully hungry tonight.” Regis said. “I didn’t eat enough at lunch I suppose.”

“That’s what you get for having manners.” Geralt said casting again. He yanked again. No fish this time. 

“Yes… oh!” Geralt looked over at Regis as he wound the line back onto his glove. The vampire was digging at the base of a tree. 

“What you got over there?” Geralt cast again and pulled. Another fish came up. He quickly did the same to it what he did with the first, and both of them flopped on the ground. 

“I found some ram’s head Geralt… a truly wondrous discovery. No parasites, completely clean, and young! My goodness!” Regis had what looked like a gaint ball of brain with flappy bits. “I can’t belive my luck!”

Regis grabbed a frying pan, a sauce pan and his small traveling alchemy kit. He set about cutting he oddly shaped mushroom up pressing some of it in wax paper, putting some of it in jars.

Geralt cast again.

“you still didn’t tell me how many. These guys are actually pretty big. I am gonna have 4.

“Make mine 3, I am going to cook the rest of this up with the fish. I also stole some butter from the larder.” Regis sounded positively giddy as he dissected the fungus. 

Geralt grinned and pulled. Another Fish.

He kept going till he had 7 fish. Regis had arranged the firewood to his satisfaction and looked to Geralt.

“Yeah yeah… Getting right on that.”

“I will cook tonight.” Regis said his giddiness contagious. 

Geralt cast igni and the fire flared to life.

Geralt walked over to the fire and began cleaning the fish. It didn’t take him long. Dandelion had loved to fish, and would do so any time he had the chance. He didn’t like the aftermath though so Geralt was always left doing that. Regis has set the frying pan into the fire and was letting it heat while he made quick work of an onion and several Garlic cloves. He also had a thing of lemon juice and some wild dill. Regis tossed part of the onions, Garlic and some spice into the pan with some butter and stirred it using a stick he had picked up. The smell of cooking food made Geralt’s stomach tighten. He sprayed a fine mist of the lemon juice into it. Then he placed some of the finally chopped ram’s head in, letting it cook.

“I know you can cook Regis, but this is rivaling Marline.” Geralt said watching in rapt attention. Regis pushed the onions, mushrooms and garlic to the side and flopped the fish into the pan skin down. He only left it there for a second before reaching in with his fingers and flipping the fish over and covering it with the mixture. With the next bare spot available, he flopped two more fish down. And repeated it. He let everything sit there for a second, then unburied the first fish and flipped it over once again. Then the second. 

He picked up the hot iron pan with his bare hands and put half of it on a plate for Geralt. And part for him, then he started the whole process over again to cook the next batch.

“Eat, please.” Regis said as he tended to the next batch. “I will eat as I cook.”

Geralt didn’t need to be told twice. He dug in with relish. He had never in all his years eaten a rams head mushroom. He had thought it was trash, and had ignored it. Gods he had been wrong. He was all but licking the plate when Regis nudged him and scooped another two fish on his plate. 

The two ate in blissful silence. Finally Geralt felt full and walked over to his pack to grab something he had snuck out from the winery earlier. A Single bottle of est est.

“Want some?” Geralt asked popping the cork and grabbing two tin cups.

“Oh! Yes I will partake.” Regis said. “This reminds me so much of the Hanza days, but with less stress.”

“Less stress for you maybe.” Geralt said pouring and handing the cup to Regis. “I don’t know what to expect when we get there, and I feel like we are racing against time.”

“Do you have a plan?” Regis asked taking a sip of the wine and smacking his lips. Geralt poured his own then sat down beside the vampire. It was warmer here out of the mountains, and now it was more humid. The Yaruga was just a stones throw away. 

“Moon dust. Moon dust, black blood and my silver chain. And my signs. Igni, aard, and Yrden I need to capture one or two Bruxa to send the message. And I am likely going to attempt to kill the mage.” Geralt said somberly. “She is an apprentice, which means shit all in the language of mages. There is no way I can know how my fight against her will go till I get there, but Bruxa? Bruxa I can handle, especially if they are young and inexperienced.”

“Chances are they are. When I was looking for information about Orianna at the enclave, it was noted that she attracted many young followers who later get disenchanted with her. She is Fickle and demanding, and apparently not many can stomach her for long. Myself included.” Regis took another long sip of wine and rolled it over his tongue. “She is formidable Geralt. The elder told me that she has the strength of a young Highborn vampire, which is unheard of. We can’t underestimate her.”

Geralt nodded and took a long draw of his own wine. 

“Now… you said there was something we needed to speak about? Something important?”

“Morvovio actually.” Regis said looking at the flames. “I noticed when I touched him, I felt the same drain on me as the bars from the cage at Tesham Mutna. The crystals growing out of his back are not Rocks, they are metal. I took a sample, and the composition is the exact same down to the letter, however so pure that even the dust under my fingernails was enough to limit my powers somewhat.”

Geralt stared ahead into the flames processing the information. 

“So what does that mean for us in the long run?” Geralt said turning towards the vampire.

“I am not sure.” Regis said his eyes narrowing. “There is something there that I am just not making a connection with. Something important. He kept mentioning Elves and that he was guarding the tunnel. There has to be something there. If he is growing metal from our home world that means a whole unknown chunk of the world came through that we don’t know about. And he was likely exposed to it. What did you think about his cryptic message to you?”

Geralt sighed. 

“Vague, vague and annoying.” He said wrinkling his nose. “I think he is an oneiromancer. Though a troll oneiromancer is a long shot. We don’t know to much about trolls, just like we don’t know to much about vampires. There has been no reason to study them outside of their removal, and their skills dealing with problems.”

“That is a mystery.” Regis scooted closer to Geralt and leaned himself on the witchers shoulder. Geralt sighed at the cool pressure his mind emptying and his worries crawling away. He was still in his armor and Regis was tracing small circles on the shoulder pauldron. The vampire yawned. 

“I’ll take point tonight, you sleep.” Geralt said looking as Regis moved to protest. Geralt grabbed his head and pressed his forehead to the vampires. The electric shock that ran through him as Regis’s breath caught and he licked his lips about sent the Witcher into convulsions. He schooled himself however, now was not the time. 

“Sleep Regis, I’ll meditate.” He said noting the bags under Regis’s eyes and the tired eyelids. 

“hmmm if you say so, I wont pass up the opportunity.” Regis said pressing lightly back against Geralt then separating himself. The vampire lay down with a thud and within moments he was lightly snoring. 

Geralt shifted himself so he was behind Regis’s back and positioned himself on his knees. He opened his senses. The only things around for miles were sleeping. Geralt could feel a great cave under them and a very large gathering of Drowners. Likely a spawning den. They did that this time of year too. Geralt felt himself slip further and further into the meditation till he felt like his senses were a part of the land. He could hear and feel mice moving, frogs, crickets, and many species of birds, asleep, or getting ready to start their midnight calls. He heard and he kept vigil, as the vampire slept.

 

The next day they were up at dawn again, this time eating at some fatback and some leftover mushroom from last nights dinner. Instead of lollygagging around they packed up their horses as soon as they could and headed west. The pace was much more even today, as roach and the destrier followed one another. They had finally met with the Yaruga and were traveling along the road at it’s south bank. The Area brought back haunting memories for Geralt even though it had since been rebuilt, and had regrown.

They kept the pace up and passed through Sodden and into Cintra. When night fell They crossed the river and around midnight pulled up to the old elven Cemetery of Fen Carn. The horses were exhausted, Geralt and Regis were exhausted. Geralt stripped the horses of their Gear and left them to wander the cemetery. Regis approached his old summer home with trepidation. When Regis moved the rock blocking it’s entrance and stepped back into the cozy crypt and cabin he called his summer home everything was neatly in it’s place, exactly where he had left it more then a decade before. Geralt and him stepped into the space. 

“One bed, probably spiders.” Regis said dropping his bags exhausted. “Safe here though.”

“To exhausted to eat.” Geralt said his eyes bleary. Without preamble he stripped himself of his armor and down to his small clothes. Regis did the same but folded what he could and left it over a chair. 

“You want the bed or the floor?” Regis said looking at the bed longingly. 

“There is no point in arguing over it. It’s big enough for us both.” Geralt said moving over to the bed and flopping onto it his blanket in tow. Regis froze for a moment. 

“Geralt… Ar…are you sure?” The trepidation in Regis’s voice made him laugh.

“We all used to pile together with no issues. I am too tired to think let alone move. Get in it’ll be warm and we will be safe. We can both rest and then Continue onto Dillingen tomorrow.”

Regis didn’t need to be told twice. He sidled up to Geralt under the blanket and felt the larger man’s arm drape over him, the weight comforting and familiar. As tired as he was Geralt was more so, and the currently red haired witcher was out in a matter of moments. Regis took this moment to well and truly snuggle up to the man and he sighed as his back nestled against Geralt’s chest and stomach. Bringing his knees up to release the stiffness that all day in the saddle had caused Regis finally settled down and fell straight to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little calmer then the last ones Ha!
> 
> It again has some of my fav lines! 
> 
> HAHAHHA vampires shitting... i love my life XD
> 
> Sad to leave Morvovio behind for now :(


	20. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Geralt and Regis arrive in Dillingen they are met with horror. The story of the Alderman Silas is told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys... the fluff is done
> 
> Warning time
> 
> This Chapter contains:  
> Very vivid descriptions of Rape  
> Nightmares  
> Violence  
> Death  
> Magical manipulation  
> curses  
> ect
> 
> please, it's not fluffy... read at your own risk.
> 
> Long Chapter this time... again if you see something say something!

Regis awoke and felt like he was on fire. He was having a nightmare, again about being turned into a pillar of glass by Vilgafortz. When the warmth didn’t dissipate and he couldn’t move, Regis froze his eyes wide. He looked around and he was in his old summer home. The sound of a horse whinnying in the distance beyond the door broke the spell of the nightmare and he felt his body relaxing. He looked down slowly and saw Geralt’s arm covering his waist. The man was snoring slightly and his muscle were jerking and twitching.

Regis felt that feeling he had been trying to control rear back up. Every time the man exhaled he did so into his ear and neck. When he had closed himself off from Geralt with the troll it was because all he wanted to do was knock some sense into the man and then take him, and rend him into a writhing puddle of need begging Regis to finish what he started. Ice water had been poured over him when Geralt couldn’t read his intentions and closed off the bond harshly. It had been exactly like when his mate did it to him the first time. A minor argument then a complete cutoff. 

It had brought memories that Regis had buried for centuries back to the forefront of his mind. He hated Geralt in that moment, hated him with all the passion he held in himself. When Dettlaff began scolding him through the bond, Regis had cut him off too. He went hunting to ease his tension. If he were honest with Geralt, he didn’t know what was worse, drinking the poor beasts blood, like he had ached to do, or taking one of the majestic creatures and rending it limb from limb spreading it’s entrails and body throughout the forest in a cavalcade of loathing. He had made the crows happy at least. 

His control was slipping even as he made it back to the camp with two deer which he skinned and cleaned with a fierceness that was unnecessary. He drained them of blood by spinning their headless forms in a tight circle and when he looked around at the trees that were now dripping with the substance all he could feel was rage. Rage at everything. 

When he saw Geralt talking at the fire with the troll he burned further. The Rage turned into lust. He opened up the bond back to Dettlaff when that happened and had sent the feelings he was feeling and all of the confusion to the vampire who was still so very tired. Dettlaff sent back a fierce empathy. So fierce it had almost knocked Regis over. Then he sent over something Regis wasn’t expecting. Self loathing. Regis paused for a moment and touched the emotion. He bit his lip and cursed. He snapped the bond shut again, and walked to Geralt, who was unguarded and sitting with the troll who had moved closer. 

When he dropped the deer, Geralt had jumped. He looked at the deer and narrowed his eyes glancing at Regis. Regis instantly felt defensive. 

“I didn’t drain it.” 

“Didn’t say you did.”

Geralt stood up and Regis’s breath caught, his nostrils flaring. The reflection of fire danced off the Witchers pale skin, scars exposed, skin damp, hair stuck to his back in a wet white matted mess. Lust swam in his vision. Lust so powerful it was all Regis could do to pull himself away. He quickly ordered Geralt to cook the deer, and asked nicely to Morvovio for him to follow him so he could really take a good look at the trolls arm. A distraction was in order. The trickling message Dettlaff had given Regis was taking root. Self loathing. 

And somehow that troll had known. 

When he sat down and began to unwind the leather binding with more force then he meant to, the troll spoke.

“You hurt.” The troll said. “Movovio hurt, but arm not heart. Heart hurt worse.”

Regis sighed at the words his lips puffing the fire draining out of him.

“Yes, I hurt Movovio.” Regis said. “I have lived many centuries, not as long as you, but many none the less. I have experienced things, horrible things, wonderful things, and done horrible things, and wonderful things. But it’s always the horrible things that stick to us and haunt us.”

“Dh’oine hurty too.” The troll said moving his arm as Regis began to press around the bone to see how it was situated. “Barber surgeon cause hurt. Run away, run away mad. Dh’oine sad. Miss cub.”

Regis looked at the troll with wide eyes momentarily forgetting what he was doing. 

“Hand holdy, help.” Morvovio had said looking wistfully towards Geralt who was still in only his shorts and was turning the spit by hand and trying to catch what was being said over the roar of the flames. “Dh’oine like Ornery, make smile. Dh’oine sad lonely. Dh’oine hand holdy Barber surgeon when scaredy rat. No like Dh’oine?”

Regis could feel tears pricking at his eyes. He was a fool. A giant damned idiot.

“Have you ever loved someone so much you feel like the slightest breeze will break it?” Regis said his voice barely a whisper. 

“Morvovio Wife. Saw her, crushing Dh’ione. Stabbed, spear. Heart knew.” The troll said wistfully. “Morvovio approach, she not know. Throw morvovio! Throw him! Didn’t like him. Morvovio knew though. Hunted, gave food. Mined, gave rock. She sick. She sick bad. Family Rabid. I help, I fix. I feed, I hunt. Wanted be near her. Smell her. Watch crush puny Dh’ione. No love for Morvovio. Movovio happy to see her. But hurt, deep, heart hurt.”

Regis was riveted on the words completely forgetting what he was doing. 

“One day, she ornery angry.” The troll winced as he moved his hurt arm to emphasize the words. “Punched, kicked, bit, angry at Morvovio! Say “Why you here. Go.” Saw it, her heart hurty too. Bonked heads. Like kiss but troll. Then wife. Morvovio happy! Ask why not then? She say “Not strong, sick, ugly. Angry.”. I told her she made Dh’oione jelly and Rocks smooth and sparkly. Enough for Morvovio. Then enough for wife.”

Regis wiped at his eyes a bit.

“That was a wonderful story, and helped put some perspective on my own.” Regis sighed. “Thank you Morvovio.” 

“Barber Surgeon good, fix arm?” The troll said lifting the mangled limb. 

“Ah yes, that is what we were doing.” Regis said straightening himself up and then fishing in his bag.

“Take this… all of it. It will help dull the pain which you are about to be in a considerable amount of.” Regis said handing over the bottle. 

The troll tossed the whole bottle in glass and all. Regis grimaced but chuckled. 

“What in?” The troll asked licking his lips. 

“A bunch of things, but the thing that will help the most is Beggartick.”

“BEGGARTICK!!!!” Morvovio exclaimed “Like Beggartick, relaxy.”

“Yes it will help.” Regis said positioning himself and feeling the trolls arm again, making sure he knew where the bone was. 

“There is going to be a lot of pain.” Regis said looking at the troll. “I wont be able to stop what I am doing until the arm is set, I ask that you try to not hit me as it will delay the process.”

The troll braced himself. 

“Morvovio ready.”

Regis pulled drawing on his super human strength and felt the bone grind. Morvovio yelled. Regis Pulled harder bracing himself against the troll. There was a Large loud sickening crunch and the unnatural curve of the trolls arm straightened. Morvovio was panting with tears running down his face. Regis grabbed some straight ironwood branches and made a stable splint with a rope that had been left on the edge of the clearing. Once he had the trolls arm secured he looked over to Geralt. 

Geralt was looking back at him his expression unreadable.

“Morvovio thanks, much better, less hurty.” The troll experimentally moved his arm in a lazy arch.

“Barbour surgeon good.” The troll said “Help, not hurt. Good. Very good, Good soul. Make mistakes. Morvovio make mistakes.”

Regis smiled sadly, and fell into his melancholy. 

He was torn out of it when the bond flung open and Geralt’s distress bleed through like an icepick. Regis immediately opened his end of the bond, but Geralt was standing stark still, the spit had stopped.

“Help him.” Morvovio said bodily lifting Regis and scooting him towards the white haired witcher. Regis did.

The kiss they shared threatened to rend him limb from limb. Geralt’s scent was earthy, full of pherimones indicating a menagerie of things that Regis could detect with barely an acknowledgement. But Geralt’s was also different. Something on the edge, something familiar but alien. Something Regis couldn’t resist. His teeth ached with the need to claim him, and when he thought he would loose it Geralt pulled away. The flood of emotions hit and he stammered out an apology. Then Geralt kissed him. Tenderly, innocently. It cooled the fires and hardened them to steal.

Now remembering that moment curled up next to the man he shuddered. The fire was there, burning bright, wanting him to act. But he couldn’t, not now. Not yet. It wasn’t right. Geralt had never gotten the chance to choose. He would take a page from Morvovio’s book and let Geralt come to him on his own terms. He would be ready, he would be so ready. But he could wait. 

In the meanwhile though he was going to take full advantage of the man’s body heat, and his slow steady heartbeat. Only, it wasn’t. Geralt’s heart was going in his chest a million miles a minute, and as Regis pulled himself up to look at the white haired Witcher he convulsed. A sharp pain dug into Regis’s side. He looked down, Geralt had claws… they were on the verge of piercing him. 

Regis’s eyes got wide. 

“Geralt… Geralt wake up!” Regis said not trusting himself to do anything other then use his voice. 

Geralt turned over releasing Regis and his eyes snapped open.

“Vesimir… no…. away… get…” Regis looked down horrified as a change came over Geralt’s face. His eyes began to glow, his nails had elongated into claws. Geralt bared his teeth. What Regis saw startled him. Geralt was growling at the air. Fangs. Geralt had proper fangs. Not just the typical slightly pointy white tips he normally sported, but a full set of fangs top and bottom. 

“Geralt please! Wake up!!” Regis pleaded. Geralt’s mouth snapped closed his lips not moving fast enough away. The scent of blood filled the small room. He snapped again, and again and again. Tearing his lips up worse. Regis panicked and transformed. He screeched the high pitched scream his species were known for and Geralt was up standing in a movement that Even Regis didn’t catch.

He lurched for Regis, Snapping biting, blood flying from his mouth. Regis folded himself over and used Geralt’s momentum up pull him on top of him then centered his feet on the large man’s chest and pushed with all his might. Geralt went flying out the door with a resounding crash and the squeel of surprised horses and Regis’s crows, were immediately followed by a sound Regis had never heard Geralt make. A Scream. An all out panicked scream. 

Regis pushed himself off the floor and used his transformed form to burst out the door. The man was scrambling against a gravestone looking at his hands. Regis rushed over and grabbed Geralt’s clawed hands, avoiding the razor sharp edges.

“Calm yourself Geralt.” Regis said pushing himself to float calmness through the bond. Detlaff woke and pushed his own calming presence towards Geralt. 

“They are real… I wasn’t hallucinating… they are real….” Geralt said panting looking at his fingers. “My teeth… what about my teeth?!?”

“They are fine Geralt, and intact. Longer then normal, but calm yourself. Calm…” Regis said soothingly pressing his forehead against Geralt’s. Geralt’s breathing began to ease, and somewhere deep inside the man, the witcher mutations finally did what they were supposed to and calmed him. With the calmness came an easing of the symptoms. Geralt’s claws withdrew into blunted nails, and his teeth, while still sharp and pointy, withdrew to their normal length. 

“I know you can change your form as a witcher, I have seen in first hand… how far does that extend?” Regis asked

“D.. dunno.” Geralt said receding panic in his voice. “I normally have to willingly activate the mutations. I was having a nightmare Regis. It’s horrible, I have had it so often recently I barely get sleep.”

“When you are calm you can tell me the nightmare. It may help ease it.” Regis said stroking the man’s sweaty hair.

Geralt lurched forward and grabbed hold of Regis shivering in the predawn morning. Regis absently ran his claws along Geralt’s scared back softly. Unconsciously tracing the scars with his blunted claws. Geralt’s grip tightened on him and Regis felt his temperature spike and the shivering stop. Regis was trying to think about what could have caused it. There was something there. Something right on the tip of his mind. Something wasn’t adding up. 

When he felt Geralt’s breath hitch, he applied more pressure to his claws. When Geralt moaned, Regis stopped. Regis keened when Geralt bit his neck, It was soft, nothing more then human teeth. Electricity raced through him and unconsciously he pressed Geralt against himself. When Geralt nibbled up his neck Regis was close to bursting into tears. It felt so good, but at the same time it felt wrong. 

“Geralt….” Regis hissed resisting the urge to buck upwards and loose himself.

The witcher looked confused and hurt. Regis understood instantly what the man needed and reeled himself in. tempering his reaction. 

He Grabbed the witchers face and kissed him softly. Then pulling away he pulled Geralt to him pressing as much of his body up against Geralt as he could. 

“Geralt, you want touch.” Regis whispered into the man’s hair as he re wrapped his arms around Regis. “Touch doesn’t mean sex Geralt. Touch can mean a great many things. You do not need to initiate with me for touch, not now not ever. Nor would I initiate with you after such a traumatic event. Seeking comfort is not wrong. Seeking to be held, is not wrong. It is natural.”

Regis could feel Geralt squeezing him his breath on Regis’s chest as he cradled the man. 

“How did you know what I had no words for.” Geralt said softly his eyes closed his hands unconsciously kneading Regis’s back. 

“I have learned a great many things about you witchers as of late.” Regis said looking out over the still dark graveyard. “we need to get back inside, dawn is a ways off, I have a drought that will put you into a dreamless and restful sleep. You need rest, I need rest. We will make it to Dillingen when we wake.”

Regis helped Geralt stand and they walked back to the small crypt. Once inside Regis re-set the door, and lit a small heating stove that could be left alone to do it’s work. He handed Geralt the potion of dreamless sleep and the witcher downed it like a shot. The room began to heat up a small bit and Geralt rolled back into bed with his back facing outwards. This time Regis crawled into the bed and wrapped his cool arm’s around Geralt. 

He was asleep the second he felt Geralt’s easy breathing.

 

\---------------------------------------

 

When Geralt awoke there was a buzzing energy in his brain instead of the last vestiges of dreams and nightmares. He was well and truly awake which hadn’t happened in eons. He had woke feeling rested, but this, he could take on the god damned world with this. The room he was in was warm and he had a weight on him he hadn’t felt since Triss years ago. A body. A warm body, that was draped across his chest snoring peacefully with his head tucked in Geralt’s armpit. Geralt winced a bit at that, he hadn’t bathed properly in several days, with the only reprieve being rinsing in the creeks. 

Regis’s hair was loose and it’s curls unruly in the humidity this close to the Yaruga. Half of it had flopped in front of the vampires face. Geralt felt his heart clench. This was one of those moments that he wanted to burn into his mind for all eternity. Regis’s long fingers and claws had found the white fuzz across his chest and were kneading through it, and Regis’s knee had his own good knee pinned down on the mattress. Content washed over him.

Then the memories came flooding back and his muscles tensed. Regis awoke instantly and attempted to look at Geralt. The second the vampire’s head had popped up, his unruly hair fell in front of his face. Regis was pinned by Geralt, and Geralt by him. Geralt chuckled as Regis attempted to fling his hair out of his eyes only to fail and make an exasperated grunt. Geralt reached his hand over and smoothed the hair back and tucked it behind the vampires ear. 

“Feeling better this morning?” The vampire asked his black eyes glassy.

“Yes, and no.” Geralt said hugging the vampire to him. Regis’s head flopped down onto his chest. “Got sleep, so body is rested. But my mind, my mind is a mess. Sorry if I hurt you last night.”

“Geralt.” Regis’s voice was muffled by the angle his head was at and his hair which was now back in front of his face again. “It takes a lot more then some wrestling to hurt me. What happened last night to you personally was terrifying. What was that nightmare?”

Geralt knew this was coming but it didn’t make it any less painful. 

“I, was a boy, strapped down to Sad Albert.” Geralt said wincing at the physical memories he had of that stupid table. “I think… I think they were attempting to give me the second round of mutations. I was in pain. I could see Vesemir and the elven mage Iongram that helped with the trial of the grasses. Vesemir was holding my hand… asking if I wanted to stop. Gods I wanted to tell him I did. With all my heart and soul, but my mouth moved and said ‘No’. Vesemir looked sad, like he had wanted me to say yes and we stop. I couldn’t look at him.”

Geralt’s body had started to shake and Regis adjusted himself and gripped him tighter. 

“I looked over my shoulder and I could see this thing… and I could see my blood running through it.” Geralt said his eyes wide and lost in memory. “The mage was telling them to draw. Who ‘They’ were isn’t there. Just shapes hovering over this thing that was slowly taking my blood. When my blood met whatever was in that thing, there was some sort of reaction. The fluid turned white, bright white. Then I felt this pressure. I looked back down to Vesesmir who was still holding my hand. The elf said NOW.”

“Vesemir pulled away, and I cried out.” Geralt said his voice thickening and the shaking increasing. “Shapes were all around me, Suddenly I was in a cage. Vesemir was reaching for me and I him. I watched the line and the white travling down it. When it hit me, my world spun. Nothing made sense anymore. I spun, pulled against my bonds, felt them give way, and I roared. I roared and pleaded for Vesemir, and he found me again. His hand took mine, then suddenly there was blood. I smelled it. Vesemir pulled back away from me his arm bloody. I screamed.”

“I could taste it Regis. Taste Vesemir’s blood just out of my reach. I was stuck in the cage all I wanted to do was rip him limb from limb, taste him, and eat him.” Geralt said screwing his eyes shut. “Then he drew his sword at me. I could feel it over my chest, but that dumb elf held him off. The elf spit on me. His own blood. It landed on my chest. I don’t know how but I licked it. It was like liquid fire and I wanted more. Needed more. My teeth ached, my hands ached. I wanted to rip them limb from limb. How dare either of them try to keep me trapped. I struggled and yelled, and pushed and pulled but I couldn’t get out of the cage. I was trapped. Then Vesemir comes at me with the sword and I feel it pierce me… then I wake up.”

“I am so deeply sorry that you have been going through that.” Regis said his hands clenching. “Do you remember your second Trial?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t.” Geralt said dislodging himself from Regis and sitting up. “I remember hopping up on the table, and Vesemir giving me ‘the speech’ that these changes were optional. Same speech we all got for the first trail. I remember seeing Eskel and he was angry. We were bunkmates at the time. He didn’t want me to go through with it but I was stubborn. I was a middle of the road witcher boy, and pride drove me to take on the second trail to stand out.”

“I remember being put to sleep. Then waking up nearly two weeks later, starved and thirsty beyond recognition.” Geralt said putting his hands onto his face. “But that’s it.”

Regis sat up as well and flopped his legs over the edge of the bed. 

“I think… your nightmare may be a repressed memory.” Regis said quietly his brows drawn in a frown. “One that’s been taken and twisted by the passage of time.”

“My mutations are supposed to prevent this.” Geralt said feeling defeated. “They are supposed to get rid of the fight or flight reflex. Or at least dull it enough we can ignore it, or pick the ‘fight’ option. Since Ciri and the wild hunt I have been feeling this panic more and more often.”

“Do you fear what we are about to go and do in Dillengen?” Regis asked looking into the slitted eyes of the witcher. Geralt thought about it for a moment. He felt normal about it. He wanted to get there, find out what was happening, set up traps, and do what he was made to do. There was no fear there, though he knew he would likely face a trail. It was the same with every contract. Just a burning need to do what he was designed to do. Nothing more, and nothing less. 

“No, not in the slightest.” Geralt’s brows were confused. “Well I do fear what I will see there. But not in the visceral run away kind, more apprehension. I know we have both seen war. Personally I have seen atrocities and had atrocities committed to me that I would expect to break most people. But what is there directly involves children. I love kids Regis. Loved em since Kaer Morhen. Me and Eskel would always be in charge of the brats brought to the keep, and some of my fondest memories are with them. And on the flip side of that coin, some of my deepest personal sorrows are watching as they took those that didn’t survive the trial out.”

Regis rubbed the man’s back and Geralt sighed.

“I think that’s why I finally took Ciri.” Geralt said. “I was so pointedly against facing my destiny, that any time she would pop up I would turn away. Finally, I found her once more… that final time. And she was broken. Nightmares, fears. She didn’t want to leave my side not for a moment. Something finally broke in me and I knew I needed to take her. Since then I see a child, and it’s like a whole separate part of me keys up. And that’s a deep part of my apprehension.”

“Protecting the young is hardly a cause for concern Geralt.” Regis said regarding the witcher. When Geralt’s eyes met Regis’s they were glowing once again. Regis couldn’t help the squeek that escaped when Geralt’s eyes locked onto his menace whipping around the witcher. 

“I am not worried about my need to protect the children.” Geralt said his voice a growl. “I am worried I will not be able to stop myself when I find out what has been done, and the butcher of blavokin will have a new notch on his belt.”

\--------------------------

 

After their conversation Geralt had gotten up to go outside to relive himself. Through the fog he could see traders traveling the roads, all headed North to Brugge or east to Ameria. No one was headed west.

Regis had taken to busying himself making a rich mash for the horses. There were oats, barley and a large vat of honeyed molasses that had been left behind when Regis had joined the party a decade before. All were still good. He mixed them up liberally with some melted lard and gave the horses some much needed sweet feed to replenish them after the hard rides. After that Geralt came back inside the small space and began putting on his armor, and reactivated his rune. 

Regis was prattling on a mile a minute about the mandrake that could be found here in early summer, and that he was remiss that they hadn’t made it till after the root had turned unusable. This had lead him to fish around his workshop, and he found that he had several small oak casks of the Mandrake moonshine, now aged a decade, on hand and untapped. 

Regis insisted that they sample a bit. Geralt was floored. It was absolutely smooth, and had taken on the smokey husk of the barrel. When a pleasant buzz washed over him and a bit of euphoria he was stunned. He had only had a sip of the stuff. Regis was preening like a prized peacock. 

“We always must take the little victories when we find them.” He said. It made Geralt chuckle. 

They packed up, and Regis put one of the small casks of moonshine on Vlad’s back set the stone back in place that blocked the entrance, and they were off again. 

They traveled north of the Yaruga keeping it within visual distance. They set a medium pace, galloping where it was smooth enough to do so, and keeping a fast walk and trot where the roads were rough still. They stopped twice, once to grab lunch at a stand that was selling perogi’s at a small village that had popped up, and once again to sit and speak with an elven family that was immigrating from Brokilon. 

The elven family had stopped in Dillingen to shelter, but they quickly fled when someone attempted to cast hypnosis spells on them. The matriarch of the elven family was a trained mage herself and hightailed it out of there the second she felt the magic. As soon as they had left they had heard that the city had been blighted by the plague. Why no one within the city would inform them of that had rankled the elves. 

When Geralt and Regis had questioned them about children and an orphanage, the only thing the elf could say was there was a serious lack of children around anywhere, and if there was an orphanage her family had missed it, and missed talks of it. 

When Regis and Geralt finally arrived in Dilligen it was dark, and rainy. They had brought out their oiled wool cloaks to keep the rain at bay. When they approached the gates to the city they were stopped. Geralt was already feeling the magic pull of his amulet that was tucked in under his armor. He had also hidden the glaring golden sun. With his normal hair and normal looking eyes, the guard barely checked him.

When they asked them to state their names, Regis gave his full name. Geralt his “Drake” Name. When they heard Regis’s full name they were rushed in the gate and lead them immediately to a well decorated large house within the city’s walls. 

“I don’t like this Regis.” Geralt said his voice muffled in the falling rain. “Not one bit. This whole city is a magic cesspool, and my amulet hasn’t stopped vibrating since we arrived.” 

Regis had cast a bubble over them to make them invisible to vampire spying, but even then it was clear to them both that this city was overrun with vampires. Several cloaked figures crossed their paths. Each and every one of them was drunk, blood drunk. Geralt could smell it, and see it in their glassy eyes and ruddy complexions. All of them were lesser vampires however. 

“This place has fallen quite far since the last time I had visited.” Regis sadly huffed. “The amount of my kin here is staggering, Beauclair has the highest concentrations of vampires on the continent, at least it had. This place… this place is nearly overrun.”

Geralt noticed the way Regis was taking the place in. This had once been his territory. His town. His hackles were up so to speak, and Geralt gave a feral grin. Regis caught the look and did so as well, his own smile becoming that much more horrible because of the fangs. 

“They are never going to know what hit them.” Regis said tightening his fingers on Vlad’s reigns.

“Gentleman I would ask you to disembark. Alderman Silas de Herbert will see you in short order. Your horses will be fed and cared for.” Regis and Geralt grabbed what they deemed most important, or most likely to get them discovered off their horses, and stood in front of the manor house until they were lead inside by a balding man with thick glasses. Once inside Geralt lifted his hood and shook out his damp hair. It was still disconcerting to see it as a rusty red. Regis kept his hood on. There were mirrors everywhere in this manor, and he didn’t need to risk discovery. 

They stood dripping on the floor for nearly 10 minutes before a bedraggled man in night clothes stumbled down the stairs followed by an attendant. 

“As I live and breath Regis… Regis you are back!” The man flew up and clasped Regis on the shoulder patting him and shaking the vampire’s hand.

“Silas, the last time I saw you, you were trying to drink Ossi under the table at Dapples. Young, just a man grown. Did you ever manage to woo Becca?” The man laughed a big barreled belly laugh. 

“I did! I did! But then? Just as I began the wooing, found out she was nearly 5 months pregnant. She hid it well she did!”

“Goodness gracious what happened to her?” Regis said his shock not mimicked.

“She wound up marrying the poor sot that got her pregnant of course! Randle Finny. They own tarnish and tackle down near the village square.” The Man said. “Shame what happened to their kid though… real shame that.” 

“What happened to their child?” Regis said his eyes narrowing. Geralt felt a hard pull of magic and the man in front of them winced. 

“I am so sorry Gentlemen my manners are horrible when woken up in the dead of night. My name is Silas, you all can call me Sile.” He stuck out his hand and Geralt took it and shook it. The tingle of magic wound it’s way up his arm and it was all he could do not to throw the man’s arm down. “Regis I have known for years. He used to be the local barber surgeon. He disappeared without much warning during the marches of the second Nilfgaardian war. We all thought him dead!”

Geralt looked at Regis and Regis looked back to him. 

“What happened to your father Sile?” Regis asked steering the man towards a sitting room. 

“Poor man got consumption two years past.” Silas bit his lip in obvious frustration as the three walked in and Regis Shut the door and locked it. With his eyes Silas motioned to the other doors while still speaking. Geralt took the queue and locked them. He looked at Regis and Regis put up his shield. The Magic weight lifted up off of the room and Geralt’s medallion quieted. 

“She killed him Regis. She killed him!” Silas blurted then looked surprised. 

“Killed who, you can speak.” Regis said sitting down in a chair and lifting the cloak from his head. 

“I… I don’t know her name.” He said the relief at being able to talk bringing tears to his eyes. “She wooed him. She wanted to build something in the city, father said no. She charmed him, the witch. She charmed the whole damned city, and then she built her… her…” 

The Alderman’s nose began to bleed.

“I can’t speak of everything, the curse is to damned strong.” 

“No need, we know.” Regis said motioning to Geralt to come over and sit down. 

“This is Drake, he and I are here to help with a problem you are having.” Regis said looking at the Alderman. 

“We have so many.” The Alderman said dabbing at his nose with a cloth a defeated look on his face. 

“We hail from Toussaint.” Geralt said putting a Toussaintoi accent into his regular speech. “From Beauclair specifically. We were sent out to help solve the plague that has been spreading.” 

“How did you know about the plague?” The alderman said his eyes widening. “And why in Lebioda’s tits can I only speak about things when you admit to knowing them.”

“I can’t go into details on how we know, just that we do.” Geralt said his accent flawless. “Regis would like to start setting up to distribute the cure as much as possible as fast as possible. Starting with your sickest.”

The man looked like he was on the verge of tears. 

“Wont that expose you?” He asked. Regis smiled and shook his head. “Geralt I think this ruse needs to break for this man and this man alone. Take your disguise off.”

The man stared in wide eyed wonder as Geralt’s form shifted, and before him stood a cat eyed white haired witcher.

“Geralt of Rivia.” Silas stammered. 

“You know me?” Geralt asked raising a bow.

“No only of your reputation.” Silas said stiffening. “I am exceedingly glad that you are here.”

Geralt took out his medallion and the golden sun that had been given to him by Morvran. Then he fished in his pack for the small scroll case.

“Alderman Silas de Hebert, Under the power given to me by Emhyr var Emreis, Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd , I have taken on the title Geralt of Corvo Bianco, Dhu Evn'gesaen.” Magic from the sun amulet pulsed around the room, surprising Geralt, but he continued with the speech. “This city, your station, are now mine to control, and by the contracts binding you to the Empire This magic shall bind you till I release you.”

Silas’s eyes widened. 

“Now.” Geralt said his eyes flashing. “This magic has taken precedence. You need to tell me what is happening to the children.”

“I…. I can’t.” Silas said suddenly waving his hands in front of himself. “Not because I can’t speak, but because I don’t know.”

Regis looked at Geralt his eyes widening.

“You need to start from the beginning.” Regis said and Geralt tucked his chain of office and wolf’s head back into his armor. 

“It started with my father. A woman came here, her name was Anna.” The Alderman stated. “Pretty woman. My father lost my mother due to me, and raised me on his own. When she seemingly took an interest in him, he was smitten. It was two years ago. I knew there was something not right about her from the get go. She treated me like I didn’t exist. Yeah I was a man grown, but my father and I have always been close. I wanted to get to know the woman who had my father acting like a school boy. She had always “Just left” or “Was feeling under the weather.” The few times I did speak with her she was cold and clipped, as if I was beneath her.”

“One day I walked into his house and heard them going at it. Not in the fun way, but an argument the likes I had never heard before, and you knew my father Regis, he was nothing if not passionate.” Silas said. “They were arguing about an orphanage of all things. She apparently was actually some big to do nobel in Toussaint who pulled a lot of political sway. We already had an orphanage, but she was insisting that she wanted the land rights to build another, bigger. She needed his permission as the Alderman to do so. My father is pragmatic. The war orphan population is fierce here since sodden, cintra, and the like. Even now years later there are still rippling effects. However the Orphanage that was here was adequately doing it’s job. He didn’t need another drain on resources.”

“He told her as much, and when he stood his ground, she burst out that door with inhuman strength. She didn’t see me.” Silas said working his hands around a piece of parchment paper on his desk. “I swear on my life she dropped her clothes, straight on the stairs here, and disappeared with a shriek I have never wanted to hear again in my life.”

Geralt’s eyes hardened, and Regis leaned forward.

“Do you know what she was?” Geralt asked his eyes glowing, and causing the alderman to swallow.

“Not then, not then I didn’t.” The Alderman said his hands and voice shaking. “When my father burst out the door he was in shambles. I was there, I caught him. I have never seen him cry, even when The Nilfgaurdian Empire trounced it’s way through our lands, leaving blood and woe in it’s wake. He Loved this women! Loved her, and was used by her. I vowed to get my revenge and began to plan and plot. However she moved faster then I could, and I was vastly outclassed.”

“Not a damned Day later, that woman, and another with short black hair and a beautiful face appeared.” He said Clenching his fists. “They walked in while I was helping my father with some work. Anna Told us that the issue with the orphanage had been solved as there was no longer an orphanage that existed. My father was livid. About that time one of the Nilfgaurdian gaurds posted around the city informed us that there had been a fire, and that the matron and patron of the orphanage had been found drained of blood and spiked on pikes in front of it.”

“That woman, that Anna, she stripped herself of her clothing and moved like a bolt of lightning.” The man shuddered through the memory, his nose beginning to bleed. “The other just smirked as she fell onto the poor guard and drained him dry right then and there. I knew what she was then. A blasted vampire. My father was livid and terrified. I was screaming. The woman that was with her just tut-tutted us. She told me that no one would hear us, and I bolted to the door. The guards were all crumpled, asleep due to some foul spell.”

“Anna used that moment to get to my father.” The man said his eyes shut tight blood dripping from his nose onto his sleeping tunic. “She handed him a scroll and a quill, and her claws were held to his neck, her breasts draped over his shoulder. I felt the other woman’s hands on me. Magic gripped me and I was tied to the spot. Frozen. I felt her hands on me, on my cock. She said to me ‘watch… and we will reward you.’ I felt so sick. My body was betraying me, and my father saw it. The vampire was lapping at him as he wrote. She was having him write a transfer of assets, and permission to take over some land that was fallow beyond the gates to open her orphanage. His reactions were just as bad as mine were. I saw the blood rush to his cheeks as the vampire’s free hand drapped over his other shoulder and down under the desk.”

“The woman had me exposed by the time my father finished and was stroking me, teasing me.” Geralt felt himself feel ill. “All I could do was make shit all needy noises and look at my father and plead with my eyes that I was sorry. After that the damned she beast lead him around the front of the desk, informing us that the land and orphanage were now hers, and now we would receive our reward. The one with me left me. Walked over to my father, and touched him with the same magic. She then kissed Anna. They fondled at each other for a bit while we were forced to watch, then Anna returned to my father, and cut him from his clothes. I could feel the tears streaming down my face as I could do nothing but watch.”

“You don’t have to tell us the rest.” Regis said his eyes glassy with hurt, and his mouth tight lipped. 

“I Don’t have to, but this is the only time since it has happened I have been able to.” Silas said opening his eyes and smearing the blood across his face in attempts to wipe it away. “You need to know Witcher, know what you are up against. Otherwise I fear you will fail.”

Geralt held his feelings at bay his mutations keeping him as guarded as they could. “Speak Alderman.”

“The witch Released my father who again had claws to his throat. She sat him in a chair positioned herself so I could see everything, his face, his… his… everything. She smiled back at me and mounted him. Then the witch started again on me. I couldn’t help anything that happened. They were working in tandem. My father could move but was held at bay by claws and teeth. He finally lost himself, screwing his eyes shut and telling me he was sorry. I was silent. I could say nothing, do nothing, but I felt myself close.”

“The she witch leaned over to my ear, bit it, and said ‘Now watch as your father dies, and you can do nothing but revel in the feeling of pleasure as your cock drains watching.’ “ Tears began trailing down his face, mingling with the blood that was coming from his nose, and now his ears. “She made good on that promise. My fathers movements became frantic, at the peak of this, Anna leaned over and bit him. He pulled form her, as she drained him. His seed spilling on the floor and her backside. He gripped onto her screaming , as his scream’s ended and he shouted my name, I came.”

Regis had moved around the desk his arm on the man’s back. He was sobbing so hard he could barely get a breath in. 

“That didn’t end it though.” He sobbed. “They let me collapse and the woman who had control of me went over to her and they started kissing. Sharing in my fathers spilled blood. I knew he died when I saw him drain. The women laughed, and his eyes were open and staring. They moved him so that he was looking at me with his dead eyes. I threw up, everything just went everywhere. Anna came to me and pulled me up and The other women smiled. ‘Do you like it when your father watches you, when you watch him. Well then lets give him a show.’”

“The Vampire… she bit me. I have never felt anything like it. It was instant, and I was out of control.” He said as Regis embraced the man and the man leaned into his embrace. “They Rutted me, keeping my eyes on my father the whole… damned… time.”

The man threw up then. Blood black ichor and whatever he had eaten before flowing out in a great gulf.

“Geralt… the curse, it’s eating him alive.” Regis said holding the man as he convulsed. Geralt Walked over to the man and tore his amulet from his head. He took it and ran it over the man’s body, and he felt a vibration right over the scar that the vampire had left. Magic, controlling and thick, but not Vampiric. 

“Hold him Regis.” Geralt said withdrawing Aerondight from his scabbard, the swords runes pulsing with magic. “This is not going to be pleasant.”

Geralt parried forward balancing the blade on the back of his armored glove. The Alderman screamed and then his eyes rolled back in his head. The second he touched skin there was resistance. He pressed hard and the tip of the blade began to push through. Black ooze began to pour out of the wound as he cut wide and deep. The runes of the sword glowed and pulsed as the purifying magic began to do it’s job. He quickly cast Yrden around the wound, the runes tight on the Alderman’s skin. Geralt set the sword down and drew a small silver dagger. The Dagger burned even in his gloved hand as he cut through the wound. He found what he was looking for. Squeezing the wound a small stone popped out with a glowing rune popped out. Geralt quickly took the runestone as it burned through his glove and placed it on the floor. He cast Yrden again as the stone lashed out and reached for Geralt. Grabbing Aerondight he let his magic pulse through the sword. He then cast quen, locking him inside the circle with the rune. 

Regis turned and shielded the Alderman as Geralt brought the sword down with a yell. The power of the cursed rune spell exploded outwards when Aerondight shattered it. Geralt flew into the shield as the magic bubble burst and the rune turned to dust. The quen gave way as Geralt pulled himself upwards filling the room with the smell of burnt hair, flesh, and dark magic. 

Regis coughed as the Alderman went limp in his arms. 

“Don’t breath it in.” Geralt said hauling himself upwards. He cast Igni at the floor, felling the last vestiges of the physical curse with fire, and creating a large burn mark in the rug in the process.

The Alderman jumped in Regis’s arms and came to with eyes wide. 

“I am free!” The Alderman said his eyes wide. “I AM FREE.”

He attempted to stand but Regis pulled him back down.

“Don’t move, finish your story.” 

“Right.” The Alderman said coming back to himself. “After they rutted me, and I was a mess on the floor, they stuck that infernal rune in me. Said my life would be forfeit if I spoke, slow, painful. That I would do exactly what they said when they said it. I had to do what they said. I had to. I even tried to kill myself and the damned thing kept me alive.”

“What happened then?” Geralt asked flopping himself down in a chair the silver sword still gripped tightly in his hands. 

“I took over for my father, attempting to do what he would have done in my stead.” The Alderman spoke. “Please don’t hate me for what I have done, I didn’t have a choice. I….”

“I think I speak for both Geralt and I when we say that a great amount of stupidity has been done while under the influence of a curse. We wont hold it against you.”

Geralt kept his poise and said nothing. 

“Their first request was the re-building of the orphanage.” The Alderman said. “That completed about a year or so ago, around the time the beast of Beauclair was harrowing Toussaint. I never saw the black haired woman again, but there is another. I… I can’t for the life of me remember what she looks like. And Vampires… there are so many vampires.”

Geralt gave the man a withering look. 

“The…then there were the requests.” He said shifting himself upright as Regis returned around the other side of the desk and began to fish through his bags. 

He pulled out a tinture and handed it to the man. 

“Here, this will calm your nerves.” Regis said and popped the cork. The man wolfed it down Greedily.

“What was that?” Geralt asked.

“I am of a mind that the faster we move on this the better. My own concoction. He will only be able to speak the truth. So ask him what you need to know.” Regis said sitting back as the Alderman sat up straight and his eyes got glassy.

“What happened to the children.” Geralt asked.

“They were taken by her, by them, the one I can not remember and Anna. The oldest sibling only, male or female, age was relative, they had to be virgins.” The alderman spoke in flat tones.

“What did they do with them.” Geralt seethed. 

“They took them to the orphanage.”

“What did they do to them?” Geralt barked his patience thinning. 

“I do not know.”

“Do you know if any of the children that were taken to her had the plague?” Geralt asked his eyes flashing. 

“They did not. They had to be hearty and hale.” The Alderman said his tone still unnervingly flat and his eyes glassy.

“How did the plague get here and why was nothing done about it.” Regis said taking over while Geralt got up and paced out his extra energy that was building. 

“They gave a child back. Just one.” He said licking his lips. “She was on deaths door, and no one knew what was wrong with her. They told me to sit back and let happen and that I wasn’t allowed to speak to anyone about the plague. They set up Runes around the city. Encasing it. They set up runes around the orphanage, no one can go near it, and those that do find themselves home with no memories. There is one thing though.”

Geralt growled.

“The smell. On a warm day the smell is unbearable, and there is no spell they can cast to quell it.”

“I need lists of all of the traveling merchants that make deliveries to and from Dillingen, their locations, their manifests, their names, everything.” Geralt snarled. 

“That can be arranged.” The man said tilting his head. 

“What are we going to do about the plague?” Regis said his eyes wide. “They can’t speak of it.”

“Tonight, before anyone is aware, I am going to go through the town and find the points of power that have been set up to keep the town encased under this spell of silence.” Geralt said Casting Axii on the Alderman. 

The Alderman blinked up at Geralt.

“You will allow us freedom of movement and not question it till whats done is done.” Geralt said. The Alderman bowed his head.

“As you say master Witcher.”

Geralt reactivated his rune. “My name is Drake, call me by nothing else.”

“Ok Drake.”

“Regis I suggest you set up your mobile lab here and start the brewing process for the cure, When you are done with the set up and you have everything going come find me, we will start distributing before they even know what is going on.” Geralt said his eyes burning. 

“Alderman, we will need access to your house and household staff, you will walk out of here after we are done and declare it to them so there are no surprises.” Geralt said Sheathing Aerondight.

“Why are you not going straight after the children?” Regis asked apprehension filtering it’s way through the bond.

“It’s night, if there is any chance vampires will be around it will be now. I need the lay of the land first. Breaking the curse on Dilligen itself will allow people to seek help. If I jump now without knowing I will likely die and be no help to anyone.”

Regis crossed the room and hugged Geralt. Geralt felt the tension in the vampire, and when he pulled back and their lips met in a heated kiss that same stormy taste washed over him. It created a fire in Geralt’s soul and he gripped Regis’s head his fingers finding their way into his damp hair. Just as quick as the heated kiss started it ended. 

“Find me.” Geralt said pulling away and reaching for the door. 

“Always.” Regis said worry floating it’s way through the bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoooo boy here comes the horribleness... again
> 
> Orianna used "Anna" as an alias
> 
> Now it becomes Dark... for a while... 
> 
> hold on to your butts!


	21. discouragement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt goes in search of the runes that have cast a spell of silence over the city of Dillengen and makes a grim discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK more fun warnings this chapter
> 
> Violence  
> monster fighting  
> plague description  
> Death  
> Mercy killing  
> Child death  
> corpses  
> sadness  
> confused Geralt can't relationship  
> Suppressed Regis can't either

The first one was going to be the most difficult. Geralt knew that, but it didn’t stop his frustration from building. Runes and rune craft were powerful magic, and having many all in one place created a feedback loop that kept his amulet vibrating at a consistent pace. The school of the wolf’s specialty was lifting curses, and as far as curses went, rune based ones were probably the easiest to lift. Yrden and silver. But they were also some of the most powerful, and would continue to create magic so long as the runes on their surface were unbroken. The stronger the rune, the more magical interference it could create. 

The first thing Geralt had to do was find the magical ley lines. He stopped by the stable to make sure he was stocked up on potions, and take a dose of blackblood and to pick up his steal sword. He strapped it to his back and smiled to himself as the familyar weight tugged on his chest. People would know what he was now, even though he looked normal. The story of Silas tugged at his mind, he needed to let the populace know there was a witcher among them that was helping. He was still going to confuse the hell out of them though with the Red hair and Hazel eyes. 

He walked out of the gate of the house, and into the city proper. It was small, smaller then Oxenfurt, but it boasted a strong populace. As he walked letting the amulet guide him he began seeing signs that not all was what it appeared. Men were drinking at hushed taverns eyes dead. Whores stood under the eve’s listlessly in the rain. In the background stood Fort Dillengen for which the city got it’s name. It was a ruined wreck still, never rebuilt from the sacking during the war. Walking down an alley there were bodies that were placed outside doorways for the corpse collector that came by in the early hours of the morning. Bending down Geralt examined the first corpse. Signs of the plague were rampant. Looking at the alleyway the blood from the dead was being washed down a muddy ditch that lead to a grate. 

Geralt groaned. The refuse from the corpses was washing into the water system. He stood up and smelled more corpses hiding behind walls in houses that were marked with black paint. He found one person that was still alive and slowly freezing to death naked in the rain. Plague pustules coated the man and foamy blood leaked from his nose and mouth. He was to far gone. When the man grabbed at his oiled wool cloak with blackened hands that were swiftly falling apart and begged him to end his life, Geralt did just that. It was a mercy. 

He cleaned his blade the best he could before re-sheathing it and returning to his journey finding the ley lines. His boots splashed muddy puddles of water in his speed. He finally caught a powerful one that made the vibration on his amulet change pitch. He walked slowly to the edge of the town and found the first rune hidden in the wall that surrounded the town hidden in an alcove. He repeated the same process he had used earlier with Silas. The resulting explosion started dogs to barking and children to crying as the loud noise ripped through the night. There was an obvious hole in the magical barrier. Geralt could begin to pinpoint where the rest of the runes were. 

As he walked a guard caught up to him. 

“Hey you what was that?” The guard said. Two others were behind him swords drawn. 

Geralt turned around and pulled out the sun from under his armor. The men stopped short. 

“Forgive us.” The men said sheathing their swords. 

“I am here investigating a matter of import to the empire.” Geralt said stashing his amulet back. “There will be more explosions. Please allow me to work uninhibited, and notify your superiors that their will be explosions.” 

“Under who’s authority.” The man said his shaved face glowering under Geralt’s hazel gaze. 

Geralt smiled wickedly.

“Emhyr var Emreis, Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd.” Geralt said withdrawing the scroll from it’s container and handing it to the man. “I am Dhu Evn’gasaen, you will not impede my work, if you do I will execute you on the spot.”

The man looked it over and his eyes got wide.

“Consider us gone, and good luck. I will let my superiors know we have a Dhu Evn’gasaen in our midst.”

Geralt Cast Axii and the man’s eyes clouded. 

“You will forget you have seen me, unless you see me again, at which point you will remember only long enough to turn and walk away again.”

“Yes, I will forget I have seen you.” The man intoned. The others looked at Geralt. 

“That’s what waits for you should you speak to anyone.” Geralt turned and headed towards the next ley line. 

As he walked and found more runes he realized that some had been placed in the water that boarded the city on it’s south side. Geralt cursed. Drowners had taken refuge in the sewers openings and this time of night was their prime time for activity. He pulsed content a few times at Regis, and then closed off the bond partially hoping that it was enough not to cause Regis to panic when he started to fight. He quickly dodged down some steps the rain finally beginning to slow. The smell coming from the sewers was grotesque and thick with decay. Human decay. He stepped into the lip of one of the openings and grabbed his crossbow. He dipped several of the silver tipped arrows into the bottle of Necrophage oil, then he coated his silver sword liberally.

The second he did the first one came at him from the darkness. This was just the thing he needed to let off some steam. Wave after wave of the dumb things came after him. By the time he killed ten of them they began to try for strategy. Geralt realized too late that the one that had flung himself at him from the front was a sacrifice for another drowner to leap at him from the top of the docks. He flew overbalanced into the water dropping Aerondight on the ledge of the stonework sewer. He skunk to the bottom of the Yaruga like a rock.

This is where the training at lake Kaer had come in. He adjusted his eyes so he could see in the murky waters, changing the shape just slightly so that the water no longer appeared fuzzy. He drew his crossbow, slowed his heart rate to practically nothing and waited. He keyed his senses to the vibrations in the water. When the first drowner came at him he pierced the grotesque creatures eye. He loaded another arrow as it’s kin began to come over and swarm, tearing the dead drowner apart, all the while forgetting him. He was lucky, they weren’t picky on food if it was dead. He took shot after shot as the frenzy increased. When he finally began to hurt for air, he blasted himself to the surface of the water using Aard. He pulled himself back up onto the lip of the sewer and picked Aerondite back up and threw his oiled cloak to the side. 

He slid down the wall to catch his breath while the drowners began to frenzy in on themselves, now tearing into the living in their fervor to feed. Geralt watched with mild interest as the frenzy began to slow and finally the three left pulled themselves from the water, bloody, beaten, stomachs distended and hissing at one another. Geralt was up in a flash. He cut them each neatly across the middle, spilling the meal of their brethren across the lip of the sewer and all over Geralt. Geralt sighed and cleaned Aerondight on his discarded cloak. 

No Rest for the weary however. He fished in his potion satchel and found a vial of Killer Whale and took a swig of it and dove back in the water. He allowed his armor to drag him to the bottom once again and began the punishing trek to find the waterlogged runes. He couldn’t destroy them right away so he pocketed them once he found them. He had to resurface several times to catch his breath. And he finally had to give in and take another dose of Orca on his way to the last one, which had been carried by the river out quite a ways. 

When he pulled himself back up onto the docks he felt dead. His toxicity was high, and he could feel the sluggish and poisoned weight of his blood as it struggled through his system. He re-opened the bond and felt Regis’s concern right away. He just felt tired. Cursing he fished in his pouch for a bottle of white honey and took it. Everything was waterlogged, but at least the rain had stopped, finally. It was misty, and the first light of dawn was making itself known. Geralt felt a prickle in his sences and looked over. He could see Regis’s energy approaching him, quickly. The snort and the sound of hooves on cobblestone let him know he had come on Vlad. 

“Geralt?” Regis called out into the mist.

“Down here.” Geralt said not feeling like moving for the moment. 

“How fares it?” Regis said finding him and stepped down to the sewer entrance and wrinkling his nose. Geralt was sitting amongst the bodies of the drowners, black veins crisscrossing his face. 

Geralt moved to speak but a sudden pressure in his head made him balk. He was confused for a moment before he remembered he had still not destroyed the pocketed Runes. He took them out and showed them to Regis.

“The Magic doesn’t effect me obviously so I can’t really feel it.” Regis said sliding down next to Geralt with a package in his hand. A delicious freshly cooked smelling package. 

“Whatever is in there I need it now.” Geralt said.

“I had the house staff make a couple sausage buns for you.” Regis said. “It has a very spicy mustard pickled cabbage on it too, good for what ails ya, so says the doctor.”

Geralt took one of the offered buns and stuffed it in his mouth with no preamble. His metabolism was going nuts as his body aided by the white honey purged itself of the poison’s that had been built up. Geralt couldn’t help the grunt of satisfaction as he ate downing the whole thing in a matter of seconds. 

“Here one more… though this time you may want to actually chew it and enjoy the flavor.” Regis said bemusement in his voice. 

“How goes your setup?” Geralt asked around a mouthful of food. 

“Very well actually. I have pilfered some volunteers who remember who I am and who are more then willing to help.” Regis smiled. “While they set up and get to brewing more, or finding more ingredients for them, I have been out and about, stopping here and there to administer the cure where I can. Most of the people getting this first round are homeless, vagabond, or of the whoring variety. But I am betting most of them will be who we need to depend on in the end.”

“See anything on the market you like?” Geralt smiled raising his eyebrows as he took another bite.

“Oh there were plenty that looked fine enough.” Regis said his own smile allowing his fangs to peak out. “But none exotic enough for my tastes. Like my women with a little bit of bite. Horns, hooves, and tails, and a fine set of tits.”

Geralt actually choked. After he got the piece of meat dislodged he laughed and laughed hard. Regis just grinned over at him leaning his head against the wall tiredly and closing his eyes. Geralt could see the fine silver streaks in his hair had widened just a touch not anything you would notice normally but Geralt knew Regis well. Geralt frowned.

“Put your thing up, I have a question.” Geralt said the seriousness of his voice cutting through the fog. He felt the barrier go up and swallowed the final bit of the mustardy bun. 

“Noticed your hair.” Geralt said frowning. 

“Yes, it is attached to my head, which is where you look most of the time.” Regis said turning towards him. Geralt pulled a face and Regis grinned again. 

“You said that you started to age when you stopped partaking in blood.” Sobering Regis looked to Geralt with a concerned expression. “How long does that take?”

“When I am not actively using my powers, I look as though I age a year or so every twenty.” Regis said carefully. “And I know what you are going to say next. Yes I have been using my powers a lot as of late. Hunting, shifting, and glamouring, which actually takes more out of me then the others combined. I have also been under a great deal of stress of my own doing as of late. Not something that can be rectified easily, but something that should shift with time. As well, while recovered a great deal, been unable to heal completely from my ordeal with Vilgefortz. I have something as a sort of “Ace in the hole” If needs be that can get me as close to peak as possible, but I would prefer to not use it unless it is absolutely dire.”

Geralt mulled over this information. The dock hands were beginning to call out to load cargo and the white honey had finally done it’s job. 

“We can talk about this more later Regis, but there are things I would like to know.” Geralt said trying to hide the small pain that blossomed up behind his heart as he stood up. Not a single witcher ever died in his bed. Not a one. Vesimir was close to 400 years old when he was killed by the hunt, and though his visage was weathered, his internals were that of a man in his prime. Geralt stuffed the worry away for another day.

Regis clasped his shoulder smiled sadly and started up the stairs. Geralt drained himself into Yaruga, letting the foul poisons purge themselves from his body, and find a new home on the pile of drowners he had dispatched. That brought a grin to his face. He tucked himself back away and then fished back into his pack to down some more black blood. The cycle starting anew.

“Sun is beginning to come up.” Regis said patting Vlad, who paced nervously due to the smell of the drowners. “I have got to go to make sure my current retinue isn’t making a mess of my instructions. Drake, I will see you later.”

Regis hopped up onto the nervous horse and Geralt patted the vampire’s leg.

“I will be back before you know it.” He smiled and nudged the vampire. 

“Drake, your nose.” Regis said pointing under his. 

Geralt wiped, and there was blood. He cursed.

“Black blood.” Geralt said wiping his face on his still damp gauntlet. The blood smeared in his short beard Regis sighed and handed him a handkerchief. Geralt cleaned off his nose. And his beard, and then around his mouth as he realized mustard had made it’s way there. Regis laughed. 

“You know I smell like a pile of drowners and look like a drowned rat. Why should my face matter.” Geralt groused licking around his lips and finding little bits of leftover flavor. Regis had stiffened and his nostrils flared. Geralt caught it and licked his lips again, this time slowly and with purpose. Pink flaired to Regis’s pale cheeks.

“hmmm you better get going.” Geralt said smiling. 

“I hate you.” Regis spat without venom And turned Vlad, who promptly hit Geralt in the face with his tail. Regis laughed as he trotted down one of the main roads. 

Geralt cracked his neck. He was going to have to do something about this thing between him and Regis sooner or later.

Sighing he set the runes down and cast his signs. The dock Workers had taken to looking at him and when he cast his signs the hushed call of “Witcher” Went up. When Aerondight came down and sundered the runes, the whole dock was instantly absent magic. When Geralt looked back up some of the dock workers had stumbled, and others were holding their heads. As he walked towards the next lay line he could hear someone approaching.

“Witcher, witcher they took her! They took my baby girl!” Geralt spun, and the expression of the people around him were of surprise. They could speak. 

“Before you approach,” Geralt said loud enough for the small crowd that was on the docks to hear.

“I know, I hear you and I know. Stay sharp, stay quiet, act like nothing is amiss. Do not speak of it, do not ask about it, not even in hushed tones. Come to the Alderman’s house if you are ill or are in need, my collogue is there and will help.”

“The plague… it’s…”

“Alderman’s house. Go there. Everyone must at some point.” Geralt said turning back away from the crowds. A General shout went back up to get the dock workers back on point, and movement and noise resumed.

“Witcher please, she is just a tot. My only one.” The man approached again.

Geralt spun and put a hand on the man’s shoulder, and cast Axii.

“You will know I will do everything I can, but you will forget that I am here, that you saw me, but your heart will be gladdened knowing something, somewhere is being done.” The man smiled, and Geralt felt his chest tighten as he walked away. Every person that approached him was going to be a mirror in one way or another. Sighing he quickly turned and started down the path again. 

The next one was in a guard tower over a gate. Followed by two that were hidden on the roofs and in roof tiles of a set of houses that had been built into the wall. The sun had begun to break up the fog, and more and more people began to mill about. There was a hushed wonder as Geralt worked. There was a general commotion as he hopped off of the roof and landed in a puddle of water that had not dried yet. Two wagons were moving past towards the city Gate with plague corpses. One of the men pushing the carts was obviously afflicted. 

Geralt quickly dodged over to the man.

“Hey.” Geralt put a hand on the man’s shoulder to stop his walk. The man turned to him surprise written on his face. 

“Wi…” Geralt put a finger to the man’s lips. Startling the man further. 

“You are infected. Go to the alderman’s house, they have the cure. Tell anyone you meet quietly to come. They have both the cure and the vaccine. We will stop this dead in it’s tracks, but quietly, discreetly. When you get the chance, burn the bodys, otherwise you will be up to your arm pits in Necrophages. 

The man nodded tears in his eyes. 

“Melitele bless you and yours…” The man said as Geralt gave the man’s arm a squeeze. He continued around finding the final batch around the perimeter. The sun was at mid morning when he turned towards the middle of the city and began the same thing. The magic was quickly concentrating itself and finding the runes was becoming easier. At one point he walked by the Alderman’s house. There wasn’t a huge crowd, but there were people there actively getting inoculated as Regis spoke to them quietly, and every one that left from the make shift clinic rushed off in quiet excitement. As Geralt approached the center of the city it was harder and harder to keep himself hidden as some of the runes where placed in market areas, or in shops. He did his due diligence however, and the populace watched on in silent awe. 

For the people to be this quiet and allow him to work they must have been waiting for a rescue for a long time and they weren’t about to do anything to fuck it up. When Geralt reached the city center a strange smell hit his nose. It was earth, rotten, forgotten. almost dry, but not quite. He followed the scent to a place surrounded by a wooden fence with “Keep out” Plastered over it. As he followed it around the smell grew thicker. Plastered on the fence was a rotted notice that was on it’s last legs. 

“Due to unforeseen circumstances Dillingen orphanage is closed indefinitely. Please visit the new ‘lucky duck’ Orphanages out the billings gate to the north for all your adoption or work house needs.” Geralt snatched the notice and folded it up in his pack.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you Master.” It was an old women with a cloudy eye but an exceptionally sweet face. “It’s haunted, but not by the usual specters, horrible things, twisted things make their shelter there.”

Geralt looked back at the fence. 

“Thanks for the warning.” Geralt said bowing to the women before turning back to the fence. No choice as usual. 

He coated Aerondight in specter oil, rolled his shoulders then pulled himself over the fence. He knew immediately this was not going to be easy. Several noonwraiths flitted this way and that in the yard with the burned building in the back. Geralt was taken aback. He had never encountered noonwraiths inside a city before. But here three were their dark skin contrasting against their pale dresses. There were Ghouls, alghouls, and in the shadows of the building Geralt could see more lurking. He cast yrden on the ground, cast quen on himself and took a low stance. Then he whistled. The effect was immediate. The wraiths disappeared and reappeared in the circle trapped inside with Geralt’s swords coated in Specter oil. Geralt played the wraiths against one another as he spun, and dodged out of the way of slicing hands and open maws. The screams started then, and he harshly closed off the bond, remembering almost two late that he would project for help. 

The distraction earned him a hard cuff with the back of the hand of one of the noonwraiths. He tumbled forward using his momentum to find himself back up on his feet with enough time to swing solidly and bisect a ghoul who had jumped at him. The wraiths were stuck, and after dispatching a second ghoul he made it back to the ladies, and dodged around them and ignored their sharp and painful screams. He Arched his sword biting into their spectral skin and they screamed. He had to keep dodging as the algoul snuck up behind him. He quickly cast Axii to befuddle the creature. Finally he killed the first noonwraith, her screams of pain turning into happiness as she was released from the world. 

One down, two to go. Another ghoul charged at him and he spun in a neat circle and ran the blade from the creatures eye to it’s flank, sending it twitching to the ground. He used his momentum to cut at one of the noonwraiths in an upward arch and followed that by a spin that dropped his center of gravity. Both of them screamed out then dissipated. Leaving Geralt with the alghoul who was now coming out of the stun. Geralt Re-cast Yrden and stood in the center of the glowing purple circle. He faced the alghoul who growled at him. Bruising pain sent him down to one knee as another ghoul from behind attempted to attack him. The Alghoul took this as his moment and lept at Geralt. Geralt leaned back so quickly he knocked the back of his head on the hard ground. He pointed his sword up and the alghoul bisected itself on it spraying him with viscera. He rolled as the other one pounced and he parried a strike.

He was back up on his feet in a flash and circling the creature. Had he known what was behind him in the shadows he would have left and regrouped. But he didn’t. His amulet jumped harshly and the sound of corrupted baby’s laughter filled his ears. The ghoul jumped, and in one clean motion he severed the creature’s head. Panting he fumbled for a Tawny owl potion and downed it just about swallowing the cork in the process. 

That laugh, it trickled through the courtyard again. It was familiar. Wet sounding. Then it was echoed. Geralt felt himself gripping tightly on his sword and lowering his stance. He saw what he feared when a misshapen baby half crawled and half dragged itself from the shadows the umbilical cord dragging behind it and wrapping around it’s throat. It’s tongue lulled out of it’s mouth and it drooled. A fucking botchling. 

“Easy there, not gonna hurt you, just… stay put.” Geralt reached in his bag slowly and grabbed his cursed oil. In a slow motion as the botching watched him he applied the oil. A second one came out from the shadows… then a third. Geralt felt his mutations kick in as his “Flight” Reflex was dulled down to nothing, and the “Fight” Came to the forefront. They must have sensed this because they jumped. They were fast, hungry, angry little beasts. When he bisected the first one and it flopped on the ground lifeless, the other two ingested it’s halves. They grew. 

“Shit….” Geralt spat trying to rethink strategy, when three more came from out of the shadows. Geralt sliced each one dead meant that one of the others was gorged. A Howling scream went up through the yard. Geralt jumped and rolled just as a fully transformed botchling leaped from the shadows, followed by a second, and a third. Geralt swung and hit at the big ones, and the small ones attempted to get their razor sharp teeth through his plate and mail. Geralt finally got a good swing at one of the big ones, and cut a small one in half again. A leg flew from the big one as Geralt jumped and spun out of the way of others. He got another small one when one got underfoot. He felt himself falling and tucked himself in and rolled. He landed on his shoulder hard, and the scabbards dug into his back as he flipped upright. He swung around and killed two more only to have one of the larger ones knock him over. 

He let off a blast of Igni that burned straight through the botchling and hit his kin in the face. The smell of burning rotting flesh filled his senses as he finally turned over and scrambled back to his feet. The one with three legs screamed and flew at Geralt. Geralt blasted it with Aard sending the botchling flying. A sickening squish and a gurgle caused Geralt to look over. The thing had been impaled on a fallen beam. Two down. One left of the big and several of the small, and now medium. Geralt turned his attention from the big one that was left, and instead focused on the small ones. He saw an opportunity and cast Yrden. The magic circle descended and froze a group of botchlings to the spot. 

His energy was waning quickly. He cast igni and fried the ones that were stuck. He danced out of the way of the large one, and sliced two of the smaller ones into pieces. He kicked a medium one in the head hard enough that it caved in and the creature gurgled before stilling. 

“Just you and fucking me buddy.” Geralt said spinning around and facing the last botchling. His lungs were burning, his muscles were burning. He stumbled and the botchling charged screaming. Geralt swept low and took off all four of it’s limbs. The creature screamed. Geralt stumbled over to the creature and put a boot on it’s flailing chest. The creature snapped and screamed. 

“See I knew it would come down to this. Just you and me now.” Geralt said panting trying to wipe some of the sweat from his head and wipe his hair away from his eyes. He put the sword in the things mouth.

“All you had to do, is show me who you were, and left me be and I could have backed out of here and taken care of you later. But Noooooo.” Geralt smiled wildly as he pushed the sword slowly into the things maw and through the back of it’s skill. “Now you get to taste silver… hope it’s as good as those sausage buns from earlier were because damned they were tasty.”

The creature stilled and Geralt collapsed. He did a quick sweep of the area and felt something below him sleeping, but he wasn’t in any condition to go through with figuring what the hell it was. He quickly downed a swallow potion and then took his water skein from behind his back. Somehow in the melee’s of today it hadn’t been touched. He drank several large gulps and then pulled out Regis’s handkerchief and doused it in water. He wiped his face off with the cool rag and tied it around his forehead not caring if it was blood stained or not. 

“You ok in there?” The old woman from earlier called out. Geralt snorted and coughed. 

“Yeah, not dead.” Geralt said trying to get ahold of his breathing. 

“You need anything? I could fetch one of my boys?”

“I could use a nap.” Geralt said wincing as the swallow did it’s work. 

“Me too sonny, me too.”

“Don’t sonny me missy I could be your grandfather.” Geralt called stretching his legs in front of him and leaning back on his palms. 

The light laughter made him smile. Made all this somehow worth it. Sighing and still panting he pulled himself up and cleaned Aerondight off on a piece of cloth the wraiths had left behind. He sheathed the large sword and stumbled forward into the shadows of the half way collapsed awning. He sharpened his senses as best as he could, but didn’t need to, the second he stepped into the half collapsed building the smell and the monsters made sense. He dropped to his knees and opened the bond again letting distress and sadness filter through. 

In front of him was the very rotten corpse of what once had been a little girl with ash blonde hair. On all sides there were corpses piled. Some from the initial burning, but most done within the past year. Hundreds of them. Geralt looked around and screamed out in anguish his fists finding the ground. He knew it was going to be this way. He knew it. Tried to prepare himself, but he couldn’t. Not for this. He lifted up the small brittle stiff corpse that burning sensation he knew was his body wanting to cry ripping through him. Her hair was still perfect and put up in a bow. Gods it reminded him of Ciri so much he wanted to be sick. 

He turned her and looked at her fragile skeletal body. 

“Fucking teeth marks, pre death, some healed, some noaarrrrghghhhHH!” He couldn’t even finish it as grief ripped through him. Stumbling he gathered himself upwards setting the corpse of the small girl down. He started methodically gathering the bodies of all the dead ghouls, wraths, alghoul and botchlings and put them in a pile and then stacked left over wood that had collapsed and not burned the first time through. He willed his mind to be numb as Regis’s concern filtered over the bond and he tried to conceal his grief. He lit the pyre with a concentrated shot of Igni then looked back to the archway where the bodies were.

“I’ll be back here for you. I wont forget you.” He said, hoping that would bring some of them comfort. “But I must attend to the living before I can attend the dead.” 

The swallow was doing it’s job but Geralt was now three steps past done, and he stumbled to the next place where he felt a rune stone was located. People cleared his path now. He was covered head to toe in blood and he was squinting trying to keep his eyes on the prize. He found one Rune under the porch of a small shack set up as a bakery. He just kept it. He found the final three centered around the well. The well which had a sign saying that the water was soiled and not to drink it. Geralt took a chance and looked down. He could see bodies. He spit and took the final three runes with him, half walking half stumbling back to the Alderman’s house. 

When he arrived back Regis rushed to meet him but stopped short as Geralt set the runes down and Cast yrden and quen. He raised Aerondight to the air, all eyes on him. Then he struck downwards, shattering the runes. 

Suddenly what was just halfhearted movements and actions, turned into full on expressions. People hugged, cried, and began to talk. Talk and talk. Geralt sighed panting as he stumbled towards Regis. 

“It… is done.” Geralt collapsed onto his knees and Regis darted forward. In a smooth movement Regis scooped him up, making just enough show of it to hide his strength and whisked the tall currently redheaded witcher into the house. Geralt stumbled and tried to lift his feet more, but he was about at the end of his strength.

“You should have called for help.” Regis snapped dragging Geralt into a room with a lavish bath and putting the familiar magic bubble around them. He quickly unsnapped and unbuckled everything with a practiced ease. And stripped Geralt of his armor. Blood had soaked through to his Underclothes and breeches. Some of it his own. He hadn’t noticed he had been hit quite a few times. Regis hissed as he lead Geralt over to the tub. And divested him of his small clothes. Pale skin and black veins met him when he looked down. The rune had been deactivated as soon as it was out of contact with his skin.

“Oh shit…” Geralt said groaning. 

“Oh shit is right.” Regis said helping him into the bath. “You have a choice, you can either let this…”

“I just took swallow Regis.” Geralt said wincing as the vampire lowered him into the hot water. “Let it run it’s course.”

Regis huffed as Geralt sighed and let the hot water cover him completely. He was almost half asleep when Regis began scrubbing him with vigor and vampire strength. 

“I couldn’t summon you Regis.” Geralt said softly as the vampire worked to clean Geralt of the refuse of the day. “When you see the place I saw, you will loose it.”

“You know Geralt, I am not a child, I will not break at the slightest notion of something grotesque.” Regis said scrubbing hard enough to make Geralt wince. “You forget what my past was, and the atrocities I have committed, some against children.

“Fine then Regis, I saw Ciri.” Geralt said his voice choked. “I saw her and what could have been had I not picked her up. A Broken and beaten little girl left for dead and forgotten. What you did was in another lifetime, a lifetime in which you have had to live through hell constantly atoning for what you did and being reminded of your actions. This little girl? She suffered her fate less then a year ago. She had the cutest damned Ribbon. Something I would have gotten for Ciri had I had any notion about what was feminine. She was so beautiful, and so perfect, and someone robbed her of her life all for a party trick.”

“I carry all of those images with me today.” Regis said resuming scrubbing. “I see them in my waking hours, in my sleeping hours. Faces, faces with no name that have death attached to them because of me. I was at one point no different then those we hunt. In fact I was worse. And don’t try to comfort me and say that I wasn’t because I know full well the scope of my actions. I regret most of who I killed, but that doesn’t change the fact that I did kill, I did enjoy it, and I didn’t think about my actions till they slammed me in the face.”

“Regis… I….” Geralt said his head dipping down. 

“No Geralt.” Regis said pulling the witchers face up to meet his gaze. 

“I am that which you hunt. I am a monster. It’s a part of me, just as much as Killing monsters and men is a part of you.” Regis spoke just above a whisper. “It’s something we absolutely need to understand in each other. We are both a coin, and the side we show to the people that we love is just one side of a very thick and layered coin.”

“Regis, I know how you care for Ciri. I have seen you two interacting.” Geralt said quietly his voice a rumbling whisper. “Were you to have seen it today. You would have lost it. I know if I had your powers at that moment, big ol Bat me would be coming for Oriana’s throat to hell with the consequences. When I say I saw something that you couldn’t handle it’s because I know how fiercely you feel things. You try to hide it constantly, but behind every wince, every sniff, Every sigh There is a mountain waiting to explode within those things.”

Regis grew still his eyes wide.

“I have started feeling it.” Geralt said lifting his hand onto his chest. “I started when you saved me from Dettlaff that first time. I can hear your heart Regis, singing to me. Constantly. Sometimes you go out of range, but the second you are back I can feel it, low and fierce, almost like that earthquake. I have tried to let you know, tried to let you understand that I can feel it too, that my heart is singing back, but it’s like your heart is singing into the wind and my song is lost. I… I don’t know how to word it, but it’s the only way I can describe it to you. I understand you. I understand you deeply in a way that makes me horribly confused most of the time.”

Regis had yet to take a breath. 

“I know what you want Regis.” Geralt said allowing his broken body for once to do what it wanted to on an instinctual level. He allowed the blood to flow to his ears, cheeks, neck and chest, flushing his pale skin pink. He felt his pupils blow wide. The vampire looked at him silent. The pupils within his dark brown eyes almost completely lost. Geralt grabbed the vampire’s hand which was still submerged in the water and guided it downwards. 

“I want the same thing you want.” He wrapped the vampire’s clawed hand around his shaft which was throbbing with need. 

“Geralt… I can’t.” Regis finally started breathing again and looked bewildered. He started shaking. Geralt panicked. 

“Regis... I….” Geralt stammered shifting himself in the tub. 

“Geralt. I will be candid with you.” The shake was evident in his voice. “I am in no condition to do this, not right now. I want to with every fiber of my being, but I fear if we start down this road right here right now in this place I will loose myself.”

Geralt reached up and cupped the vampire’s face with his large callused hand. 

“It’s because of this isn’t it?” Geralt asked gripping at his heart, and humming as Regis leaned into his touch. He praised his lucky stars he hadn’t messed it up to badly.

“Once we start down this road, there is likely no returning. Not for me.” Regis said quietly. “There was a reason Syanna was afraid of Dettlaff. There was a reason that Succubus in Beauclair didn’t bother anyone in those months we were stuck there. As soon as the process starts, especially with someone like you, who knows who I am, and what I am, someone I know I would be hard pressed to break, There wont be any returning.”

“This isn’t blood Regis.” Geralt said quietly trying to hide the small hurt in his voice. 

“No Geralt it’s not. It’s more. So much more. Something I can’t risk, something you don’t realize you can’t risk. Not right now. This isn’t the time, gods I wish It was, but it is not.”

“It’s me isn’t it.” Geralt quietly said withdrawing his knees that burning feeling wracking it’s way through his system once again. 

“Are you willing to pull yourself away from everything for an eternity?” Regis said quietly placing his hand on Geralt’s back. “As witchers you are trained from the start to analyze the situation from every angle. What good would it do for you to be killed, or for me to be killed if we are bound. For that’s what the end path is here. If you were killed right now, where you stand, I would be enraged, seek out vengeance for my packmate, and potential mate, and that would be that. If we take this path deeper, and one of us dies, which is a real possibility, we will loose ourselves to grief.”

“I know when I said that I would follow you, that I would defend you, and in the end I would choose you if Dettlaff had needed to be put down.” Regis said looking in Geralt’s eyes. “And I would have. I would have killed him. But doing so would have killed me. So we can not rush into this blindly, passionately, and with all the brain matter of two young lovers sneaking out of their parents houses for a tryst. You are over a hundred years old. Me over four. We have responsibilities to others, and to ourselves that we need to keep, and we owe them at the very least.”

“Regis, what if I don’t have time?” Geralt said speaking into his knees. “For twenty years now I have felt like I am a fly caught at the end of a web. Something is happening, to me, to the world, that I don’t understand. Never have. Even before that as I walked the path I walked it with the knowledge that every day was likely my last. There is a black dog nipping at me, constantly, and how I keep avoiding it is beyond me. If I die…”

“I will find you in what lies beyond.” Regis said leaning forward and pressing his head to Geralt’s. Geralt smiled a little and then groaned. 

“Now enough of this morose talk, We have jobs here.” Regis said smiling sadly and reaching for the soap. “How long will it take for the swallow to work?”

“It’s been working while I have been sitting here. I can feel my strength returning slowly.” Geralt said as Regis finished scrubbing the last of the grime off his body, and began to work on his hair. “I need a few hours to rest and recover, otherwise I will likely keel over from over exertion. We have been awake for over 24 hours now. I don’t require much sleep, but I do need a little to re-set my rhythms. I don’t know why I am telling you this when you already damned well know but whatever. What time is it now?”

“We are approaching one bell.” Regis said running his soapy fingers through Geralt’s hair. 

“Let me sleep till four.” Geralt said sighing as Regis’s fingers relaxed him. “Do you have any more black blood?” Geralt asked. “I have used two today, I have several left but with as crazy as this one day as been I don’t know if my supply will last.”

“Yes I have extra, I also have my experimental black black blood that would likely due in a pinch, though it’s effects are unknown.” Geralt snorted a laugh.

“We really need a better name for it.” Geralt said. “Oh!”

“What?” Regis said rinsing Geralt’s hair. 

“Let’s call it Dettlaff’s Elixer.” Geralt said grinning like an idiot. 

“A poison made to kill vampires and anything else that bites you, that could potentially kill you if you take it.” Regis said thoughtfully a grin forming on his face as well. “I think it sounds rather fitting.”

Geralt grinned as Regis put a softly scented oil in his hair and brushed it through, working several days worth of knots out.

Geralt couldn’t help but sigh at the small vision of what could potentially be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A character note on Geralt
> 
> I have read all the lore on this damned man.
> 
> NEVER ONCE HAS HE HAD... ANYTHING BUT A SEXUAL RELATIONSHIP WITH SOMEONE
> 
> Whoever they are always dives head first right into his groin. He has no idea how to do anything other then initiate physically.
> 
> Regis on the other hand has spent 400 years being painfully shy, and overthinking... everything.
> 
> Lots more death and violence to come, and maybe... JUST MAYBE Regis and Geralt can figure their shit out
> 
> maybe.


	22. Grim Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Regis Gain access to the new orphanage and make a grim discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK FOLKS READ THE WARNINGS
> 
> This chapter contains
> 
> Child death  
> Child corpses  
> Mentions of child abuse  
> mentions of child rape   
> Barfing
> 
> PLEASE KNOW THIS GOING IN
> 
> This chapter is also very long sooooo yeah.
> 
> again... no Beta.... if you see something say something.

Regis had made Geralt take another swig of the dreamless sleep potion before he put him to bed. Geralt was still wound up about everything, and as soon as Regis left the room he spent himself in the towel so He could sleep without being bothered. 

He woke up immediately when the loud clock in the center of town rang the hour of four bells. He woke up with drool plastering his face to the pillow. Groaning he sat up and looked to the bedside table. A fresh set of laundered clothes was laying there, and his armor, which had been at least scrubbed of blood was laying across the desk and table in the room. Beside the clothes was a bottle of white honey, a bottle of black blood, and a note scrawled in Regis’s loose hand. 

“Come outside, We are having tea, and I have had them prepare a meal for you once you are dressed.”

Geralt grinned and flexed his muscles experimentally. No stiffness, no soreness. The swallow had done it’s job. All of the superficial cuts had been healed, and the bruises that littered him would fade in a few days as his body carted away the old blood. He quickly took the white honey, and felt it working through his system. Then he dressed and armored up. He quickly went over Aerondight. There were some small chips where the silver had cracked as he was destroying the runes. Geralt got out a bottle of a special blend of Silver nitrate and wiped it down the blade, being Careful to fill in the cracks and chips as much as possible.

He then took his disguise rune and activated it. Regis had braided his hair into a thick plait, starting from the crown of his head downwards. Geralt added a headband. If the rest of today was anything like this morning he would need it to keep the sweat out of his eyes. When he walked through the house the smell was intoxicating. He grinned as he stepped outside into the afternoon sun. 

The crowd was much the same as when he had come in earlier, but more alive somehow. There was no line per say, people would just come up and get their shots, and wander away. Several people who actively looked to have the plague were talking amongst themselves happily and animated. Geralt Recognized the one of them as the man who was pulling the corpse cart. He smiled to himself and walked over to Regis, who was just finishing up on someone. 

Regis smiled and walked over to a basin and washed his hands in the soapy water. 

“Bubble.” Geralt said sidling up beside him. Regis did so without hesitation the simple sign becoming easier with every use. 

“What have you seen?” Geralt said eying the people as they walked, talked and interacted. He made note of some of the dock workers and foremen who were lingering and speaking avidly about going to a tavern to celebrate a good load out.

“It’s what I haven’t that concerns me.” Regis said drying his hands. “I have been out here since I got back from the docks with you, and I can count on my fingers and toes the amount of children I have seen. Those that I have seen are held close, and shielded. Often by several people at once. It’s uncanny how the people are staying utterly silent about us, and only telling those that they trust most.”

Geralt sighed. 

“I have been wearing my swords as a warning and a beacon.” Geralt said. “And I have only been approached once.”

“Where did you wind up going, you said you found bodies.” Regis’s eyes scanned the crowed and they narrowed.

“The old orphanage.” Geralt said following the vampire’s eyes. “There were hundreds of them. Old, cut off was about 6 months ago. Most are mummified, and rotten… Am I seeing this right?”

A young women dressed in a loosely fitting dress with an immodest bodice was walking down the road. In her hand was a ribbon, and following behind her were several more women each carrying a ribbon. Behind them were a rancorous group of kids. People had begun to subtlety pull away, and Geralt felt his amulet pulse. Regis dropped the bubble, the magic slowly dissipating and settling into it’s normal place like sand through an hourglass.

“That’s her.” Geralt turned to Silas who had stepped forward and was pointedly smiling and waving at someone in the other direction. “The one I can’t remember.” 

Geralt felt his eyes contract, but his posture didn’t change. He was leaning against one of the tables that had been brought out his arms loosely crossed over his heavily armored chest. She approached the men the children playing and picking at one another, creating a happy din that was oblivious to the atmosphere change. 

“Good evening Silas.” Geralt felt magic building. Geralt shifted himself so he was touching Regis and reached out through the bond with as much force as the bond was willing to hold. Geralt knew the spell that was building. It was a lesser version of the one Yennifer used constantly. Regis by nature didn’t show up when a detection spell was used. He waited as the magic washed over them. It was fooled. 

“Who are these two Gentleman.”

“Ah, forgive me my manners.” Regis said his own accent thickening with the Tousantaoi brogue his hands behind his back and his smile tight lipped. “I am Andrew Hinson. I am a Barbour Surgeon that was sent in from Beauclair to handle this city’s… issues? It’s the strangest thing, but I can not speak of it now that I am here, but no matter. I can still treat it and that’s all that matters.”

The woman visibly stiffened then feigned relaxation. 

“And you?”

“Smitten, with your fair skin and lovely hair my lady.” Geralt said his own voice picking up the Tousantaoi accent and thickening, deepening, becoming almost a growl. “But one can not do without a name to place in front of the striking woman. I am Drake de Foulty, sell sword and man for hire. A knight by trade once upon a time, but sadly I fell short of the virtues by but one. Generosity. I like my coin and it likes me to much for me to part quickly with it in the name of the Heron.”

Regis’s head turned so slowly to regard Geralt the witcher could about hear the creek of his bones. Internally Geralt was screaming with laughter. When the sudden tang of Female arousal perfumed the air Geralt allowed his capillaries to flood his face and ears, creating a blush on his pale and freckled skin.

“Ah master Foulty.” She said obviously flustered as the two women behind her giggled. “forgive me my name is Janina Lisiewicz, I am the head matron of the Lucky duck orphanage.” She said offering her hand. 

Geralt took it and felt his amulet buzz with the detection of a spell he was very familyar with, it had been used over and over and over on him to the point where he could just shrug off the effects. It was a charm spell, a love spell. And this one was poorly cast as this sorcerous had not been trained properly. He knew how to react though, and he leaned in and took her hand. Instead of letting his skin touch her he maneuvered his thumb just enough for it to appear like a kiss and looked back into her eyes letting his face flood and routing bloodflow to his groin. She smiled at his feigned startled reaction.

Geralt sent comfort over the bond before Regis could get to upset. The vampires posture eased and he smiled his tight lipped smile. 

“What pray tell does a sell sword need with two swords?” The woman asked. One of the side effects of the spell she had attempted was complete honestly. 

“To be truthful Toussaint has gained a royal witcher it seems.” Geralt said frowning and attempting to adjust himself just discreetly enough it wouldn’t be noticed by anyone but her and Regis. “It’s becoming a fashion to wield two swords.”

“I see!” The woman said eyeing his crotch hungrily. “I would like to see you, tomorrow evening if possible.”

Geralt eyed Regis asking for an answer. Regis shrugged.

“It would be my honor.” Geralt said bowing low. 

“Now that’s out of the way, all these children! Where on earth could you be off too?” Regis asked pointedly looking at one young girl in line.

“We are going to see the play!” The little girl said and the other little girls began to titter around her. “A changelings Rescue, or a witchers Triumph!”

The girls fell into peals of laughter while the boys wrestled with one another. Not a single one zlet go of the ribbon. 

“A rare treat for them to be sure.” Janina said.

“Seems as though some of these little ones have… well.” Regis put on a consternated face.

“Seems as though they have, We shall stop by your tent tomorrow Barbour surgeon, I would like to see what this cure of yours is.” The woman said nodding at him. Geralt could hear her heartrate spike. A lie. “I will see you tomorrow as well master Drake. Meet me at the orphanage just past ten bells in the evening?”

“Why so late my lady?” Geralt said allowing himself to flush again. 

“We shall skip the formalities and go straight to the fireworks.” Geralt gave a feral grin.

“I shall be counting the moments my lady.” Geralt said making a deep bow.

“Silas, after these two gentleman leave we will need to have a word.” Geralt felt the magic pull, Silas did too from the residuals from the curse he doubled over in pain gripping at his neck.

With a quick turn and one long languid look back to Geralt she began walking to the theater. Geralt had passed it earlier and in fact one of the previous rune stones had been on it’s roof. He held his casual stance as people began to filter back into the square with darting looks.

“Drake de Foulty?” Regis said as soon as she was out of sight. Geralt keyed his systems back to normal and groaned as all the blood drained from his face and left a slight headache in it’s wake. Food was being brought out now and the smell of it was intoxicating.

“Better then Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde, which I may add was a perfectly fine name, and Vesemir was just jealous.” Geralt said pulling himself up to his full height. 

Regis laughed behind his hand.

“I remember that story!” Regis said smiling behind his hand.

Geralt grinned and saw Silas waving them over. Geralt loped over the distance in several long strides and Regis sauntered after him.

They sat down and the usual tea and cakes, tarts and small sandwiches were brought out, as well as a well seasoned chicken that had been slow roasted over the fire. Geralt swatted at Regis as he took pieces of said chicken and popped it into his mouth. The rest of the people Regis had contracted to help sat around them laughing and enjoying the small respite. 

“You will forgive me for saying so, but you and sir Regis seem very familyar with one another.” Geralt was all out guarding his chicken at this point as Regis attempted to find weaknesses in his defense. 

“Yeah, been through a lot together.” Geralt said and growled as Regis managed to pluck another piece away. Ha well, two could play at that game. While Regis was distracted by gloating Geralt reached over and grabbed the tart that was resting on Regis’s plate. Before Regis could react Geralt had it in his mouth, and had Regis’s teacup in his hands. 

He smiled at the wide eyed vampire as he washed the tart down with the warm tea. He then set it back down on Regis’s saucer and tore another hunk off his chicken. Regis chuckled poured himself more and took a sip. Silas watched with wide eyes.

“I mean you seem… more like…”

“Lovers?” Regis said and Geralt stiffened.

“Yes, and I don’t mean to pry, but I am curious.” Silas said with no judgement in his voice just rapt attention.

“Drake and I have been separated by many years. He was the one that took me originally from this place, and took me on an adventure that if I am to be honest with you, seemed to cost me more then life itself.” Regis said his eyes far off. “I suffered at the hands of a powerful Mage, and he didn’t know I was alive. We were reunited a little over a year ago, and again under stressful circumstances, as a friend of mine had made it a point to attempt to destroy himself and others over being spurned and used. Geralt helped me through that. I left again shortly after we had gotten my friend to at least not want to burn the world to chase after him and bring him back home to recover amongst friends. Got myself into some more trouble, and sought him out again.”

“So what we have right now?” Regis said pondering and looking at Geralt, who wanted to know just as much as Silas where they stood. “We have a path, a journey. We passed deep friendship some time ago, and unfortunately we don’t have a map so I couldn’t tell you were we are going. But I do know I would die for this man, and he for me, and having admitted such to ourselves we realized that we would be unable to live without one another.”

Geralt felt his heart constrict in keen happiness and tried to hide his reaction by taking a bite of chicken. Regis saw and looked at him fondly.

“So where we fall on the scale is completely irrelevant, at least to me.” Regis said matter-of-factly grabbing another tart and putting it straight into his mouth this time. “And I do rather feel like at some point we both jumped off the scales and are just making our own way.”

Silas looked off wistfully.

“Some day I hope I am recovered enough to seek someone out.” Silas said and Geralt lowered his eyes. 

The rest of the conversation fed into background noise as Geralt ate. 

As soon as the meal was finished Geralt grabbed Regis by the shoulder as he helped clear away the clutter.

“Lets go riding.” Geralt’s eyes were serious, and grim with determination. 

Regis nodded stiffly and followed Geralt as He grabbed Roach. 

Geralt took them to the far gate to avoid the district the theater was in, and they wound their way around the perimeter of the city. Small cottages dotted the landscape in front of the still ruined Fort Dillingen. A Nilfgaardian regiment had taken residence, and Geralt could hear them drilling in the afternoon sun. The golden sun banners, once a bane to his existence were now a welcome sight as they passed by the ruined fort to seek out the orphanage.

Regis put up the bubble. 

“What are we doing Geralt?” Regis said looking around the countryside. 

“We are doing recon.” Geralt said. 

“That looked like the whole orphanage out at that play Regis.” Geralt said “I have acted in that play, I know how long it lasts. They will be there for a while.” 

“You keep finding ways to surprise me Geralt.” Regis said looking at the witcher. “Acted? How did you get roped into that?”

Geralt relayed the story of attempting to find Ciri and his strange dream that lead him to seek out Dudu. 

“How on earth did you know it was him!” Regis balked. 

“Whoreson Junior left him a parting gift.” Geralt pointed to his own scar. “Took his eye.”

“That’s terrible.” Regis shook his head sadly.

“It actually turned out alright for him.” Geralt said as they saw a large stucco building after topping a hill. “The devious little imp took off right from where Whoreson left off. Even passed the assholes body off as a Doppler to get rid of his shit reputation. He practically runs all of Novigrad’s black market, and has built up a regular market as well. Between him Dandelion, Zoltan, and Pricilla they may as well all be royalty of Novigrad.”

“I missed out on so much being gone.” Regis said smiling. “I should have let someone know I was still alive so one of you could have carried me around to witness all this.”

Geralt laughed and halted roach. His amulet had started to vibrate. Regis went on for a couple paces before turning Vlad around.

“The barrier is here.” Geralt said reaching his hand out and touching the invisible magic, which made his amulet burn under his armor. 

“I didn’t feel a thing.” Regis said confused. “Of course, I didn’t feel anything when we arrived in Dillingen either.”

“Lets circle around it and find a shelter for the horses.” Geralt said walking roach along the magic’s edge. “Then I will find the runes. This one, is much more powerful then the one over the city. It’s precise, and strong. The work of a master.”

Regis hummed. 

“Don’t suppose it is Mrs. Vigo’s work?” Regis said allowing Vlad to fall into step next to Roach. 

“Without a doubt.” Geralt said as they walked around the perimeter. “It has the same flavor of the spell that got ahold of me.” 

Regis went quiet as Geralt concentrated. On the far side from where they started a large copse of trees stood with a creek running in the middle. Geralt led Roach down into the small valley and hopped off. He straightened as Regis misted himself off Vlad and stood looking at the orphanage through the bows of the trees. Geralt opened up his senses and looked around. The creek did not continue past the trees. 

Geralt started walking and Regis turned into mist, following his shadow. Geralt could hear the magic of the barrier in tandem with his amulet. The sharp crisp sound sounding like static in his ears. When they reached the creek Geralt saw immediately a clear path in the soft dirt. Carts had run beside the creek in both directions, pulled by horses. On the way in the carts were light, on the way out they were heavy. The last one had took this path in the morning, the ruts deep from the rains and the prints from horses crisp. 

Regis whipped around Geralt a couple times and started off into the distance following the creek. They met a cliff face where the creek just stopped. Geralt pulled out the Eye of Nehaleni and activated it. Nothing happened. Geralt cursed as he examined the wall. Regis re-materialized putting his hand on the rock and frowning. 

“Vampire magic Geralt.” Regis said shifting along the wall with his fingers. “Give me a second.”

Geralt watched as Regis found what he was looking for. He placed his hand on the inconspicuous rock and it glowed brightly with the sign of the Gharasham tribe of vampires. The wall began to move down with a grinding of gears. 

“I find it utterly strange that she still uses tribal magic to lock this place.” Regis said frowning. “She absolutely has her own, and could easily lock it and lock everyone out. Geralt, I am going to put something out there and feel free to tell me if I am being paranoid.” 

“Alright.” Geralt shrugged starting into the cave. 

“I have been commissioned by the Elder of the Gharasham to get you to remove Orianna.” Regis said following Geralt into the dark. Geralt took a dose of cat as they walked. 

“Now, as we are on the precipice of solving at least one of our mysteries, the door to one of Orianna’s strong hold is locked with something anyone from the tribe can use to enter.” Regis seethed distress making it’s way through the bond. “Why would the elder send me to confront her if he could have had anyone access this place at any time? I’ll tell you why. Because that bottom feeding dirt licking leach wants to remove Orianna to take over her interests. I thought at first it was because of his paranoia regarding our potential discovery by the human world. He said he needed me specifically, and he played me like a lute.”

Regis shifted his claws elongating and his visage monstrous.

“He wants her out of the way so he can control the farms.” Regis seethed. “He knows there will be a fight, he knows I will likely join in because of you. He would have me labeled as an anathema, and kill two birds with one strike. That’s why they were attempting to direct you to the fiend. Orianna isn’t here, she is there.”

Geralt felt his chest tighten. Without any thought he whipped out his amulet and activated it.

“Ciri. Answer me.” Regis whipped around. Geralt’s amulet was glowing red in the dim light. There was a few minutes of silence. Geralt had begun to pace worry bleeding through his being. 

“Hey Geralt!” Ciri’s voice echoed through the cave. Geralt fell on his knees at her voice. “Sorry about that had to get off the horse. We are a few miles away from the estate. How fairs your hunt?”

It was all Geralt could do to remain upright. His breath came in short gasps. Regis rushed over, his transformation still over him.

“Can she hear me?” Regis crouched down placing his clawed hand on Geralt’s back. Geralt nodded.

“Regis!” Ciri’s bright voice chirped. “I see he hasn’t driven you mad yet. What happened?”

“Cirilla, Geralt is recovering from a shock.” Regis said rubbing Geralt’s back and trying to not get his claws caught in anything. “Ciri we have dire news. The contract, Orianna is there, at the estate.”

“Ciri, it was a trap meant for me.” Geralt said finally finding his voice again.

“Do you need me to blink to you?” Ciri said concern evident in her voice. “Should I abandon this?” 

“No, don’t.” Geralt said. “Black blood, use blackblood. Don’t fight her if you don’t have to. Give her a message, tell her I have destroyed her farm in Dillingen, and that I would like to meet with her face to face as the elder of the Gharasham tribe wants her head on a pike and that Regis and I have been commissioned to take her out not for her transgressions against the tribe, or her potential discovery by being sloppy, but because the elder wants to take over her farms.”

“How on earth did you learn that?” Ciri’s voice carrying the edge of anger.

“We arrived here not minutes ago, and the only barrier was a lock with the Gharasham symbol on it.” Regis seethed standing as Geralt found his feet again. “When we were out in Beauclair before we left, we ran into the elder. I had been under the impression that he never left his cesspit. He has been out, and moving for some time it seems. He has full access to these places as they are not locked with her personal magic. She likely doesn’t know she has an axe at her neck from the tribe and is under the impression that the only contract out for her is from the duchy.”

“That is a lot to take in.” Ciri said.

“I thought for sure that… that she…” Geralt said his voice choking.

“Calm yourself Father.” Ciri said softly. “It’s going to take much more then a surely bruxa to take me out, much more. I have been dreaming again, and have yet to dream my death at this place.” 

“Please be careful Ciri.” Geralt said. “Bruxa or not, dreams or not, humor me, and just say ‘ok I will be careful.’”

Ciri’s musical laugh filled the cave. 

“I will be careful Da.” She said softly. 

“Thank you Ciri.” Geralt said with a sigh. “I love you, my child surprise.” 

“And I you my destiny.” Ciri said the exchange took the heat out of Regis’s ire, and he shifted back slowly smiling sadly. “May your hunt be fruitful. We will reconvene when I you get back. Do you wish me to contact you when the task is complete?”

“Contact me if something is amiss. No news is good news.” Geralt said the tension leaving his shoulders.

“Take care father.” 

“Take care Ciri.”

“I had no idea your amulets were that powerful.” Regis said regarding Geralt curiously as Geralt tucked the wolf’s head back into his armor. 

“Witcher trade secret.” Geralt sighed. “Though with the schools in ruin I am not seeing the point in keeping many of the old secrets anymore, especially from friends. Except Dandelion, he can never know.”

“He would likely write a ballad about it I surmise.” Regis said chuckling. “Shall we continue?” 

“Yes, Lets scope out this place, I am formulating a plan, and I need to make sure the layout of this place so I can enact it when it’s time.” Geralt said starting forward again. 

“I can already smell blood on the air.” Regis said making a point of sniffing and lifting his lips just slightly. “Multiple sources, surprisingly not all children.”

“That’s unexpected.” Geralt said also sniffing the air. “Death on the wind too.” 

They reached an area with a loading dock. Crates were stacked here and there, both empty and full. Geralt investigated. The empty crates were filled with wood shavings. The ones that were full we with alchemy supplies and ingredients. One crate was full to the brim with mandrake.

“Should we raze this place, you will allow me to take that one crate.” Regis said licking his lips as he inspected the twisted roots.

“Come on, lets get upstairs.” Geralt hoisted himself up on the edge. Regis followed suit. They entered a stairwell carved out of the cave walls. One side polished smooth. Geralt trained his senses on the area above. There was no movement, no signs of life. Geralt pushed open the oak door at the top of the stairs and stepped into a laboratory. 

Regis had gotten the rag out of his bag and covered his nose. The smell of blood in the air was potent. Blood, piss and fear created a miasma that even Geralt choked on. 

“Don’t breath it Regis.” Geralt said looking at the vampire who gave him an irked look. 

“I need to breath to speak.” Regis huffed his voice muffled through the rag. 

“Then don’t speak.” Despite the circumstances a small smile peaked through.

“I see what you are planning Witcher. You can’t quell my veracious need to expatiate my thoughts.” Regis said as Geralt started inspecting the lab. 

His heart dropped when he found the first small body encased magically in ice.

“Male, seven years old or so.” Geralt said his voice clinical looking through the crystal clear ice at the boy’s frozen face. “Scarred bites suggest many feedings, but also healings. Has the beginning stages of the Catriona plague.”

“Another, over here, female, thirteen or so, shows signs of puberty. Terminal hair formation on genitals, and armpits. Breast tissue has begun to form” Regis said looking through another frozen block. “Bites here, but unhealed. No signs of the plague. Does show signs of malnutrition and anemia at time of death. Jugular veins have been cut, blood pooling visible on her face”

Geralt winced as he and Regis found five more bodies. Seven total in the room. Geralt investigated the crates that lined the wall. Again most seemed filled with alchemy ingredients. He found a crate of vials with blood in them, and a manifest. 

“Regis, need you.” Geralt picked up one of the vials. 

Regis sighed and removed the rag from his nose and grabbed the vial. He sniffed and instantly gagged. The gag turned into a retch that had Geralt dancing backwards. Regis handed the vial quickly back to Geralt before everything that had been in his stomach spilled all over the floor. 

“Good gods Regis are you ok?!” Geralt said corking the bottle and rushing to the vampire.

“I… It’s the…” Regis retched again with enough force to tip him over. Geralt caught him before he fell and grabbed the rag and put it in front of the vampires nose.

“Poison?” Geralt supplied leading Regis over to a stool where he sat the vampire. Regis was fighting with himself as he breathed in the sweet scent of the rag. He shook his head. 

“Its… the blood… Geralt.” Regis said wincing as his stomach tried to tense again. “Just… don’t… have the stomach… for it… anymore.” 

“Stay there.” Geralt said as Regis bent over again and dry heaved. Geralt quickly glanced around and found a mop and bucket. He pulled Regis out of the line of fire, and set the area of sick into flames with a concentrated blast of Igni. Satisfied that it was removed, Geralt quickly grabbed the mop and the bucket, which was filled with soiled water. Geralt mopped up the floor removing all traces that anything had been burned there. 

“Ok Geralt, from here on out, lets just assume that they all have the plague.” Regis said finally catching his breath and sitting up straight. He had tied the rag under his nose and the smell of orange oil and mint rolled over the sour smelling room.

“I am sorry, didn’t realize that would happen.” Geralt said putting the mop back against the wall. 

“Neither did I, “ Regis said looking absolutely ridiculous with the rag tied under his nose. “I had a hunch it was a possibility when I about retched when Yennefer handed me that first vial. Even more so as the closer we got to this room, the more my stomach started to protest.”

Geralt grunted and walked over to Regis and rubbed his shoulders. Regis leaned into the touch.

“Blood, Male, seven. Plague.” Regis sighed. “What does the manifest say?”

Geralt released his hold and walked back over to the crate. He was stunned when he saw where it was headed.   
“This one was headed to the imperial palace.” Geralt balked looking at the manifests, then looking further and finding all of the proper paperwork to allow it past the Imperia brigade and customs. “Says here it was to be picked up by Cirilla var Emreis…”

Regis and him exchanged a confused look.

“But Cirilla…” Regis frowned. 

Geralt cursed. 

“His fucking wife.” Geralt hissed resisting the urge to crinkle the manifest up and burn it.

“Wait, I thought him and Yennefer were together.” Regis stood shakily.

“He married the false Ciri to keep his usurpers at bay.” Geralt hissed placing the manifest back into it’s proper place. “He could never marry Yennefer. She is barren and he needs an heir.”

“He doesn’t seem to be trying to hard on that front.” Regis said raising his eyebrows.

“He never will either.” Geralt said huffing. “For all her differences Becca reminds him of Ciri in appearance alone. Despite his initial attempts and appearances otherwise, the idea of bedding his daughter, or his daughters proxy sickens him.”

“My opinion of the man has improved.” Regis said nodding to himself. 

“This is bad.” Geralt rubbed his temples. “She has already gotten a shipment, that manifest was a re-order.”

Regis was silent.

“There is nothing we can do, lets continue.” Geralt sighed and walked to one of the doors that lined the room. 

The scent of death was stronger here then the rest of the room. Geralt hesitantly opened the door and looked inside. A boy was hung by his ankles, his face red and swollen. Below him there was a bucket that was filled with coagulating blood. Geralt hissed and closed the door. He went to another, it was empty. The third again had a child in it. A toddler. Geralt felt himself falling into the familyar pattern of disassociation as he saw the bite-marks.

“Two more dead.” Geralt said his voice detached. 

Regis grunted.

“Lets try this door.” Geralt said approaching the door that smelled the least like death.

Another staircase greeted him, this one wood and creaky. He took the steps two at a time, and pushed open the door. Now he was in the orphanage proper. The interior walls were covered in brightly colored paintings. Parchment was placed hap hazard with children’s drawings. Happy, innocent. Rainbows, warriors, princesses, flowers. Geralt began exploring. He was in a large common area with benches chairs and pillows spread throughout the room with tables with tempera paint in sealed jars. Paint brushes were strewn about, some neat looking, others frayed. Children’s sheers and glue, and writing quills. Regis separated off to explore as well. Geralt went into room after room. Beds, writing desks, small personal effects and clothing were scattered this way and that in neat chaos. 

“Geralt, come here.” Regis called pulling Geralt away from the rooms. He passed through a dining room, which was equally decorated, and then Into a hallway where Regis stood looking into another set of rooms.

“I know this setup.” Regis said opening the door wide for Geralt to pass inside. This room was posh, richly colored. Wine glasses, wine, and the telltale smell of blood permeated every corner of the room.

“This is where they come to feed.” Geralt said running his hands over the plush couches that filled the area. A couple of the couches had claw marks, and so did the walls, though they had been patched over several times. 

“We had a set up like this in my old home.” Regis said pain evident in his voice. Geralt sighed and pursed his lips. 

“What’s in the room across the hall?” Geralt shook his head and went for the door. 

“I haven’t looked.” Regis said Grabbing the handle and opening it. Geralt stepped in and was glued to the spot.

The first thought through Geralt’s head was ‘passiflora’ and instantly he felt his stomach clench. Beds. Beds with child sized restraints. Separated by richly decorated walls. Blood permeated this room, as well as another smell. A smell Geralt didn’t want to think about.

Regis had shifted and let out a roar. Geralt quickly grabbed the vampire’s shoulder. Regis spun on him tears in his black and red eyes. Geralt grabbed him by his leather overcoat and lead him out of the room. He didn’t stop leading him till he opened the door at the end of the hallway and they came into the open air. Regis fell to his knees and keened. Geralt had sufficiently detached himself and allowed his witcher mutations to control his reaction. He thanked whatever gods were out there that for once his mutations were working properly. There would be time later to extract revenge.

“Geralt… they…” The helpless look that Regis gave Geralt wrenched at his heart. He leaned down and put his arms around the vampire as he shook. 

“I will kill them Geralt.” Regis seethed through sobs. “I will kill each and every one of them.”

Geralt started as he felt Dettlaff roaring to life through the bond. Anger and distress filtering through the bond with such power that Geralt winced. He sent back a powerful pulse of comfort, then shifted to Regis’s front. 

“I will kill them.” Geralt said with finality. “You doing so will play into their hands.”

Regis screamed. The power of the screech deafened Geralt and made him feel instantly and violently ill. Something inside his ears shattered. His world began to tilt at all angles. He reached out and grabbed onto Regis. Regis’s expression was monstrous. He was yelling his own hands coming down on Geralt’s shoulders and squeezing painfully. Geralt couldn’t hear him. His eyes were blurry and unfocused. Regis’s expression turned into angry confusion his mouth still moving.

Geralt began sending his distress through the bond, winking it open and closed with a franticness he couldn’t verbalize. Regis sniffed and his eyes got wide. Geralt felt the pressure in his shoulder ease only to have his head wrenched to the side, his world tilted violently. He felt Regis’s clawed finger touch his ear and then let go of his head. Geralt felt himself tilting over, but there was fuck all he could do about it. Regis looked at his fingers. Blood.

“Regis… swallow.” Geralt said. He couldn’t hear his own voice only feel the vibration in his throat and mouth as he spoke. The only thing he did hear was a high pitched whining. The rage from both vampires vanished in a flash, both of them pulsed with distress. 

All of his other senses kicked up a notch at the loss of his hearing. He could smell something, something terrible, Death, decay, and putridness assaulted him. Regis was frantically looking through his bag. His claws were preventing him and he was angry. Geralt startled when Regis ripped his own claws off. The smell of his blood hit the air and Geralt instantly felt a keen hunger rip through him. He licked his lips as Regis uncorked the bottle with bloody fingers. He wiped the blood off the bottle with his handkerchief. And Geralt felt mildly disappointed, till he realized what he was thinking.

Regis stuck the bottle up to Geralt’s mouth and the familyar taste of the bitter liquid washed over him. Geralt kicked his metabolism into high gear, to allow the potion to work quickly. Something he tried not to do unless in dire circumstances. Loosing his hearing and balance counted as dire in his mind. 

Regis was trying to address him, the ringing was still there and he couldn’t hear him yet. 

“Deaf Regis.” Geralt said. The vampire looked at him. Spoke. Obviously cursed, spoke again. And Cursed once more. Geralt Grabbed the vampire’s head and put it against his own. The sun was starting its decent, causing long shadows. Regis had closed his eyes and the distress was starting to ease as Geralt felt the dizziness begin to lessen. The first sounds he heard were mumbled words in a language Geralt didn’t recognize. It sounded like he was hearing someone speak from underwater. 

The ringing began to lessen bit by bit and the pain in his ears stopped. 

“Regis I can hear again, it’s going to improve but we have to keep going.” Geralt said his own voice sounding foreign in his ears. “You need to talk Dettlaff down, and I need to tell you that this is the kinda shit I have been dealing with all along, this, what we are going through right now? This is what being a witcher is. Why I wanted to retire, and why I know I can’t.”

“You knew I would react this way, which is why you didn’t bring me to the old orphanage.” Regis voice bitter and strained. 

“Figured if you needed to freak out it was best to be in a place that people avoid.” Geralt smiled stroking Regis’s hair.

“I am sorry Geralt.” Regis said his transformation easing and slowly returning him to normal.

“We need to beat them at their own game.” Geralt said. “I have an advantage with my mutations, I can suppress chemical emotional reactions. You can’t. They have been watching you for so long they know your weaknesses and can play you like a fiddle. They know what happened at Stygga, how you lost yourself. They know your associations with Dettlaff who would kill himself before knowingly harming a child.”

“By proxy they know me.” Geralt said leaning back and releasing Regis from his grip. “The ballads, the history. I am known by everyone in this world practically. They know my love for Ciri. They know my soft spot for kids. They are going to try to use this to their advantage, but I can’t let it rule me. I have to be able to out think them, and tempering my reactions and being cold is the only way we are going to save those children that are still alive.”

“I have a confession.” Regis said biting his lip. “Dettlaff… Dettlaff can’t do anything right now.”

“What do you mean he can’t do anything?” Geralt said confused. 

“I am not ready yet to tell you the full story of what happened after the night of long fangs.” Regis said wincing. “But when I finally saw him after I had gotten out of that cell in the enclave, he was still in a state. He took the same vow I did, and refuses to partake in blood after that night. He is trying to recover on his own without aid, and is in withdrawals. That’s why he is constantly so groggy. Healing is painfully slow and painfully taxing without the aid of blood. That’s why when I was torn appart by those villagers it took me nearly 70 years to pull myself together enough to move.”

“How long will he be out of commission?” Geralt said finally understanding why the dark brooding vampire hadn’t made himself known. He still felt a bitter resentment deep in his soul for what happened with the beast of Beauclair, and even though he was bound to him as a pack member if he were truthful with himself he was only tolerating him for Regis’s sake. The admission in his mind made him feel guilty. 

“Not sure honestly.” Regis said softly. 

The wind shifted and Geralt winced. The smell became strong, stronger now then it had been. Regis picked it up through his handkerchief and winced.

“You know what that is don’t you.” Geralt said hauling himself up and facing the wind. 

“Yes.” Regis said his voice still soft, distant, sad. 

“I need to go investigate.” Geralt started walking keying his senses up and clearing the dried blood from his ears as best as he could. “Will you follow?” 

Regis looked up for a moment then looked back at Geralt from where he was still kneeling. Geralt stopped and turned around. 

“Yes.” Regis said turning into mist and falling into Geralt’s shadow.

“It’s strange.” Regis’s disembodied voice floated around him. “Seeing a dead child is far less traumatizing then the conjuring’s the mind can do when faced with a scenario that you can’t have possibly prevented.”

“Yeah, all we can do is stop it and pick up the pieces that are left.” Geralt said as the smell got stronger. 

“Why are you not concerned for Ciri’s sake?” Regis asked his mist circling Geralt’s feet.

Geralt paused. 

“How much do you know about her.” Geralt said. Stepping back as Regis coalesced in front of him.

“I know she is of the elder blood, that she has powers beyond imagining.” Regis ran his hand through his hair to smooth down the wisps that were being blown by the wind. “I know her history, but only what you have told me. Or what I have experienced first hand.”

Geralt paused and rubbed the amulet under his armor.

“She is a goddess.” Geralt sighed the simplicity of the statement catching Regis off-guard.

“What do you mean?” Regis tensed at the words.

“She is a goddess. The goddess of space and time, reborn from the elder blood.” Geralt said. “She can travel between worlds, between times. That is apparently just the tip of the iceberg.”

“She stopped the white frost.” Regis said. “something that was said to be unstoppable, I have read Dandelion’s works.”

“She did it by fixing the magic that brought it about in the first place.” Geralt said remembering as Ciri animatedly told him of her adventure confronting the white frost. “She went to the world where it started. She researched, and found the ruins of a civilization that was beyond explanation. A machine, a complicated machine had broken the barrier between the universe of the white frost and that universe. The white frost existed in a place without doors. Ciri told me how it worked, but I can’t remember the specifics. When the crack opened the White frost began flooding in like a river. Over time the hole opened wider like a river carving a canyon, killing the civilization that broke the barrier. It began filling that universe, then found a doorway, a doorway to another where it began to leak through. It took and killed millions of worlds.”

“Eventually it found it’s way to the original home world of the Aen Undod. They tried to stop it, but fled. They wound up splitting into several factions. They traveled from place to place to place and finally the Aen Elle settled on their current world Tir Na Leia, far from the frost’s touches. The magic there was corrupt, but useful. It didn’t last. The elves knew it was coming, and they started a last ditch effort to solve the problem once and for all. They treated with the unicorns of their adopted world. The unicorns could travel between worlds at a whim. They thought the elves the magic as best as they could, and now they could navigate between the worlds. When the first vestiges of the frost hit their current world, the unicorns panicked. They blamed the elves for bringing the white frost, something the unicorns could not control as they could only visit worlds. They began to fight one another. Squabbling, killing, the fear of the white frost fueling them.”

“When the fighting reached it’s fervor, a group of elves broke off from the Aen Elle, fleeing the bloodshed and the frost. A new door opened of it’s own accord. This group found this world. When they arrived the magic was pure. Over the course of several generations the mutations that had begun changing and twisting the Aen Elle faded, and it healed those that had traveled there. The Aen Seidhe were born. Lead originally by a Matriarch Shiadhal. Centuries past. Shiadhal came back to Tir Na Lia, and met Auberon and fell in love. Without the corruption of Tir Na Lia Shiadhal became powerful. Her blood could be traced to the kings of old. Elder blood. Filled with magic beautiful and destructive.”

“The story goes she was out walking one day when she was confronted by an Elder of the unicorns. He had sensed her lack of corruption and the fact that she was pregnant. He told her that there was a measure the unicorns were not willing to take to try to stop the white frost. But that their world was slowly dyeing so grudges meant nothing He would give up his magic and his life and give it to the unborn child inside Shiadhal. The child would have the power both of the strongest of the Aen Elle, the purity of the Aen Siedhe, and the magic of the unicorns.”

“Lara Dornen was born.” Geralt sighed. “Shiadhal died giving birth. Lara was raised by her fathers side. But she had her mothers spirit, and would go visit our world, drawn to the lack of corruption. The humans had arrived here by that point and had begun to take over. She was convinced that the humans were not the terrible fast producing barbarians that were destroying the Aen Shadhe. Her father would have none of it, and tethered her to Tir Na Lia by engaging her to a promising young sage named Avallac’h. He did so in fear that she would balk from her Duty as one of the elder blood when the time came. Avallac’h and Lara fell in love, but it was a twisted love.”

“Lara deeply resented her father, and Avallac’h.” Regis was hanging on every word. “And her father was not wrong. One night after a fight Lara stole through the gate to the world of the Aen Shadhe, and closed it. She was not used to using her powers so it didn’t remain so permanently, but it was long enough for Lara to experience life without the influence of her father and make good on trying to understand the humans. She found one. Cregennan of Lod.”

“That is absolutely remarkable.” Regis breathed. “But how, how did Ciri become a goddess?”

“That’s the thing. Humans.” Geralt said resuming walking. “Human’s have a natural talent to control Chaos, Magic. Where as the elves have to be taught all humans can access it without having to reach to far. IT’s why as witchers, most of us without any magical talent, are able to cast. The elder blood, the unicorn’s magic, and humanities access to chaos. The perfect trifecta. All Concentrated in just the right amount in a single girl who happened to be caught at the right time in her life. Without intervention she would have destroyed the world. The Balance had to be perfect.”

“that’s why when Ciri went back to the world where the white Frost originated she was able to close the rift. She can’t purge the magic completely, at least not yet. But the flow has stopped, and by some miracle the heat of the various universe is very quickly warming the frost up again. It will take a millennia but the touch of the white frost will loose it’s hold and disappear.”

“That begs a question.” Regis said turning back into mist and following Geralt’s feet. “How did the white frost move? Generally water moves down hill till it reaches the bottom. Is it the same for this? Is our world…. Our universe… lower somehow?”

“Now you are reaching into questions that are best left for Avallac’h.” Geralt said frowning as he spotted some ruins sticking out from the trees.

“Hmmm I may have to talk to him at some point.” Regis said. 

When Geralt approached the ruins he found the source of the smell. A ward had been put up to keep Necrophages at bay, and more wards were put up to prevent the formation of specters, botchlings, and all manor of other spurned soul. The reason was obvious. Bodies large and small littered the space. Stacked up on top of one another haphazardly in one corner, and organized neatly in the other. 

He started down the stairs only to be stopped when Regis grunted. He spun around and ran back up the stairs only to find the vampire sitting flat on his rump.

“What happened?” Geralt asked holding out his hand. 

“The plot thickens further.” Regis groused grasping Geralt’s hand. Geralt lifted him with a tug. “You know that scroll I have?” 

“Yeah?” Geralt said peaking back over to the body pit. The shadows were getting longer and the sky was turning amber. 

“Well in it is a set of runes that can be used against us.” Regis said pulling out the scroll and unrolling it. “Someone has this particular area shielded from Vampires.”

Geralt looked over Regis’s shoulder at the scroll as it finally rested on a set of runes that ranged in use from a muscle relaxant to a binding. Geralt frowned.

“This one here, it’s used to create a barrier I can not pass. “ Regis said pointing to a rune that looked like an arrow.

“My amulet can’t detect it.” Geralt said rubbing at his chest. “The only thing I get is from the barrier put up against humans. Do you think you can pinpoint the runes?”

Regis put his hand out and inched forward. When his hand hit the barrier there was heat. Regis didn’t wince. He waved his hand back and fourth experimentally and slowly.

“I think I can.” Regis said walking slowly his fingertips smoldering. 

“You are practically on fire Regis are you sure that you can do this.” The withering look Regis gave made Geralt wince. 

“Really, you must of forgotten who I am.” Regis snorted. “I am immune to fire, and this? This is nothing. However I don’t want to use any more of my energy then I have to. I spent a bit to much of it being angry earlier, and what energy I could have had was left all over the floor of that lab. I am about at my limits.”

“Is that why you keep going into your mist form?” Geralt asked following after him as the vampire strode with purpose his fingers sparking. 

“Yes, it is by far the easiest form to move in.” Regis said stopping and backtracking. “Geralt, it’s here… somewhere.”

Geralt keyed up his mutations and looked at the ground. He could see footprints, a woman’s walking from the spot in a barely perceptible path of bent grass. Regis waited as he followed the path to a tree that had a small notch. In it was a stone with the rune Regis had shown him. Geralt grabbed it and set it on the ground. He made his barriers with a few quick casts then pulled out Areondight. When he swung the sword downwards in a practiced movement the stone shot out from under the sword and skittered a few feet away.

“Fuck.” Geralt said looking at Areondight in the waning sunlight. 

“What happened.” Regis called peeking over the underbrush.

“It’s not effected by silver.” Geralt said pacing around the stone. Geralt cast igni, ard, and even cast an exploding version of Quen to no avail. Geralt got frustrated and picked up the stone in his hand and threw it in the sky through the trees with a yell. Not productive but it made him feel better.

“That worked!” Regis said stomping through the underbrush and looking around for the rune. “Wait… where is it.”

“I threw it.” Geralt said sheepishly. 

Regis laughed a throaty laugh.

“Well whatever you did it worked. There is another on the other side, if we move them enough I’ll be able to go down.” Regis said taking off in the direction they had come and putting his arm out till he found the barrier again.

After the second stone was taken care of they both descended the steps. Regis looked around and started inspecting the small bodies. Geralt frowned. Specific pieces and parts of them were missing. Some were missing obvious things like arms, noses, legs, feet. Others were missing things like eyes. Geralt found his way over to a body Regis was puzzling over.

“He has been cut open as If an autopsy was performed.” Regis said. Geralt winced and pulled the putrid skin flaps apart. He knew this would be hell to wash out. The ribs had been split apart and the heart of the child was missing, as was the liver, Kidneys, pancreas, Gallbladder, and a single long strip of the lower intestine. 

“This was done post mortem.” Geralt said fishing around the insides. “The items missing minus the large intestinal piece can all theoretically be used in spell crafting. Geralt pushed everything back inside as best as he could and closed the skin.

“Grotesque seems inadequate.” Regis said looking around. “How many do you estimate.”

“At least as many as I saw in the old orphanage.” Geralt stepped over to the pile of discarded children. These ones had been picked clean, and were just thrown in a pile. The ones towards the bottom were composting, and the amount of Maggots, bugs, beetles and such were astronomical. Geralt crouched and pulled on an arm. All the meat slid off at the elbow and flopped to the ground with a sickening smack. The arm was just bones and tendons that were strung on it like strings. Geralt shuddered. 

“What are you doing?” Regis asked stepping over a river of liquefied decomposing flesh. 

“Gotta see how long this has been here.” Geralt said working himself up for what he had to do. He stuck his arm into the pile deeply. Causing Regis to groan in disgust. Feeling around Geralt found what he was looking for and pulled his arm out. The center of the pile was more decomposed then the rest. The interior was hot to the touch uncomfortably so, and as soon as the sun went down it would likely be steaming. Geralt grabbed a fistful of what he could and withdrew bracing himself on the bodies as he did so. 

Geralt opened his hand. Inside, was dirt. Fowl smelling dirt with little bits and pieces of bone throughout. Regis suddenly grabbed his arm and pinched some of it into his claws and rubbed it between his fingers. He hesitantly took his impromptu mask off for a moment and sniffed at it. He wrinkled his nose but didn’t move to retch.

“Geralt, this is going to sound very strange, but this smells like blood meal planting fertilizer.” Regis said wiping his fingers off on his jacket. 

“There is another big difference between here and the old orphanage too.” Geralt said sifting the dirt between his fingers. “In the old orphanage the bodies are practically mummified. They were drained so thoroughly that any sort of liquid that they just sat and whatever bacteria that could get to them preserved them more then decayed them. These were not drained all the way. They are still wet, so to speak.”

Geralt looked around the pile to the fresher bodies and found one that had obviously been drained. 

“See look at this one, this one was drained to the last drop.” Geralt said moving the stiff limb the skin cracking. “Compare it to this one, that has been bled but not drained.”

Geralt moved a second corpse’s arm and it moved smoothly, but the skin had begun to slip and it’s pallor had turned yellow and swollen. 

“Both of these were killed around the same time. You can tell by their position in the pile and the bugs. The one that was drained has less, but the same type.” Geralt said pulling up the lips of the dried corpse and looking at it’s mouth. 

“Didn’t fancy you for an entomologist.” Regis said. “I remember dissecting cadavers at Oxenfort and we went over this. I thought it was foolish since I was going to be dealing with the living.”

“It may have been foolish for you, but any of your fellow scholars that went on to dress the dead or work as medical investigators probably thrived on this sort of information.” Geralt said sighing. “I was hoping to find something here that would allow me to identify who these children were.”

“should we burn them?” Regis sighed looking sadly at the small corpses as the last of the light washed over them in rich reds and burgundies. 

“No, not yet.” Geralt said brushing off his arm and armor as best as he could. “Lets see where that door leads.” 

“Anything to get us out of here.” Regis said wincing. “Those poor souls.” 

Geralt winced and walked over to the door and pulled it open. A small staircase met them and a long hallway carved out of the rock. At the end was another door. Opening it Geralt saw they were in the lab again. Regis sat down on the stool he had earlier and leaned against his knees. 

“Stay here, I am going to go make sure I have memorized the layout of the place.” Geralt said resisting the urge to pat Regis on the shoulder with his putrid armored gloves. Regis grunted.

“Please hurry Geralt.” Regis said. “I have kept the barrier up throughout this whole ordeal, I need to refuel and at least attempt to get this smell off of me.”

Geralt nodded and loped off back up the stairs to the main orphanage. He found several more rooms, but no hidden chambers. He did find some spaces in the floor boards but they were filled to the brim with keepsakes from the children and little else. Once he was satisfied he turned and eyed a table. It was something he had missed before. A spoon. Geralt looked at it curiously before turning it over in his hand. It smelled like sulfur. Setting it down again where he had found it he continued back down the stairs. Regis was standing.

“Shall we?” Geralt said starting for the door back into the cave. 

“Please.” Regis said rubbing his temples. 

Geralt and Regis made their way out of the caves with little issue. The horses were where they had left them. Regis made sure to re-lock the door, and both of them took off making a wide arch around the barrier and stopping at the top of the hill. It was dark now, the last vestiges of twilight making the sky making horizon take on a deep rich dark turquoise. The humidity had picked up and clouds had started to form in the east, slowly making their way westwards. 

The sound of children chatting happily and the glow of torches signaled the arrival of the children back to the hellhole that was the orphanage. Geralt and Regis watched the procession. The Mage called out a spell. Loud enough that Geralt heard it from where they stood silently on the hill. He memorized the words and as soon as the children had filtered inside the gate along with the matrons he turned roach and took off at a Gallup. 

Regis followed suit and dropped the barrier leaning into Vlad tiredly as he recovered. Geralt stopped short when they arrived at Fort Dillingen. And walked roach up the path to the Nilfgaardian regiment. 

“What are we doing here?” Regis said tiredly. 

“We will stop, get food, get clothes, and I will tell you my plan.” Geralt said. “And hopefully we can get a page to clean my armor enough that I don’t smell like the ass end of a shaelmaar.”

Geralt fished into his armor and took out his emblems, the wolf’s head resting on the golden sun.   
Geralt and Regis were stopped at the entrance but were let in the second Geralt showed the emblem and demanded to speak to the commanding officer.

A meal was brought and Geralt was stripped of his armor and Regis his Gambeson and gloves. Both witcher and vampire dug into the boiled beef stew starving, and finally sated began to speak to the commander, and informed him of what they saw.

“So now, you know what we are dealing with.” Geralt said chugging down a mug of warm mulled wine. 

“That is a lot to take in.” The commander was a gruff man, cleanly shaven, but had obviously seen battle. His arms were crisscrossed in scars his hair gray at the temples and thinning. 

“Now, we need to mount a rescue, which will take place tomorrow.” Geralt said his eyes fierce, his disguise dropped.

“I don’t know if we can…” the man started. Geralt stood and walked over to the desk where the commander was sitting.

“You will mount it, or I will have your head in three seconds and whoever is next in line will do as I have ordered.” Geralt said standing at his full height in front of the man who swallowed fear lacing his eyes. 

“What needs to be done.” The man said taking out a notebook from his desk and dipping his quill into the inkwell on his desk.

“I will need a spy, one that is both reliable, and cunning.” Geralt said noting that Regis had regained his color and was sipping on his own mulled wine with relish. “He is to leave with myself and Regis tonight. We will go to the home of Janina Lisiewicz. He will be placed there, and he will signal with a flare as soon as she is out of visual distance of the residence. The flare will be green”

The man nodded as he made his notes. 

“There will be soldiers stationed at every gate. As soon as she passes through the gate heading towards the orphanage another flair will go up. This one Red.” Geralt said as the commander stood and pulled out a map of Dillingen and the surrounding area. He grabbed some pins and pinned it to his desk. Then he pinned a green pin where the house was, and Red pins at every gate into and out of the city.

“As soon as the red flare goes, the Gates to the city are to be drawn and martial law is to be declared. A Unit of your troops will patrol the area with silver swords, moon dust bombs. I trust they can handle themselves against Bruxa Katakans and the like?” Geralt asked.

The man nodded grimly.

“We have been encountering them more and more as of late.” He said noting down the instructions. 

“That is the setup for when she leaves. I plan on completing the rescue before she leaves her house.” Geralt looked at the map.

“ At Twelve bells Myself and Regis will show up here.” Geralt said. From there we will send scouts around the barrier of the orphanage. Activity will be watched for two hours. If the flares go up before two bells we will move the time table up. Regis will help set up a medical triage here as many of the children are going to be in dire straights when we get them out. All of your medics are to be on call throughout the whole of this event.”

“We will need carts, enough to move sixty or so children, and various lab equipment and crates.” Geralt said motioning back to the map. “At two bells we will disembark here with several units of men. We will head around the hill to keep out of sight. There is an entrance to a cave that goes under the barrier that will allow the carts in. We will lead them in silently. No words, hand signals only. Take only the sturdiest of horses. At three bells the operation will begin. Regis and myself will take point, Regis is my eyes and ears, he will not be fighting.”

Geralt grabbed a piece of parchment paper and drew out the layout of the compound in detail. The commander looked on in awe.

“We will enter here. Your men will back me up. There is likely to be resistance in the labs, as they are active, and there were potions brewing. Our goal is not to destroy.” Geralt said looking the commander in the eye. “Your men that travel with me into the compound need to be armed with silver. When we breach the labs and take them over your men are to clear it out. All of it. Take every last tincture, vial, paper and case and load it up quickly, silently. While that is happening Regis and I will go up stairs, and a unit will follow.”

“There are several matrons, of which are innocent.” Geralt said. “I will Axii them, send them home to their families. After this operation goes down we can question them. After they leave we will load the children and everything left from the matrons office up and you and your units will Move away from here to Fort Dillingen where you will set up a defense for vampires and keep the children safe.”

“What if we are discovered?” The commander said swallowing thickly. “What if we fail?”

“Pray to Melitele that you are able to defend yourselves, and if I lay dead, pray the emperor is merciful and grants you a quick death for failure.” Geralt said harshly. The man winced.

“If I may add, as serious as this situation is, and as ready as we are going to have you be, the risk to your men is really relatively small if you follow our instructions.” Regis said his tone warm fatherly completely contrasting Geralt’s harsh growl. “I have made some blade oil that your men can use on their weapons that will dispatch the vampire’s quickly, should the need arise, and effortlessly so long as their blades are true. As well, you may dip the tips of arrows into it. The oil has a long shelf life and exposure to air will not deaden the effects.”

The man sighed looking relived.

“Thank you Master Regis.” The commander said.

Regis inclined his head and crossed his legs.

“As soon as everything is packed we will follow you out to the exit of the tunnel and seal it.” Geralt motioned back to the map again. “From that point Regis and I will handle everything. Your signal that the operation is over will be the orphanage burning. Station men on the hill and send up white flares once the building is engulfed. Regis will provide several crows for messaging purposes. As soon as the flares are up, send them off. They will be traveling to the Emperor’s Caravan, and the palace at Beauclair, where most of the Nilfgaardian statesmen currently are residing.”

“This is quite the task.” The commander said his eyes weary and worn. “What are we to do after.”

“There is an old orphanage in the city that has been used as a body dumping ground for quite some time. Most of the bodies there have effects still on them. Try to find their family’s and give them a proper burial or pyre. When the sorcerous dies, and she will, all of the spells protecting this area from Necrophages and monsters will disappear along with her. With all the bodies around, you will have a crisis. Your men will need to be ready for action to disperse of the threat immediately. You will hold all documentation and lab items for Yennefer of Vengerburg, the Emperor’s personal sorcerous, as well as Morvran Voorhis. Only one of those two will be able to touch them, that’s an order.”

There was a call outside the tent. The commander barked for them to come in. A page had brought Geralt’s armor back and Regis’s coat. Both of them smelled clean, and were slightly damp the smell of lemon vodka and soap thick on the leather. 

“As you Gentleman know, we have been sending spies into the town for some time now. We have lost several and only gotten two back. One of which had little to no memories of his time in the town, the other managed to relay what little info we had to you. I only have one spy left at my disposal.” The commander said. “I wish her returned, she is worth her weight in gold.”

Geralt nodded.

“Call Eliyen.” The commander ordered to the page, and the boy ran out of the tent with speed. 

The commander and Geralt sat down. Geralt was feeling his lack of sleep now and he rubbed at his beard which was now long enough to be just past the prickly phase and was now in the itchy phase. His skin was dry despite the humidity. For just a moment he allowed himself to miss the comforts of his estate home and effects. 

“E'er y glòir Commander.” Geralt spun his head surprised at the voice. He hadn’t heard her approaching. Before him stood a willowy elf dressed in brown leather armor. Her eyes were a striking gray, her hair black and braided long in a plait that reached past her hips. A bow and quiver was strapped across her back, and two daggers to her front.

“Eliyen, this is Geralt of Corvo Bianco, and Regis, a barber surgeon out of Beauclair.” The commander motioned. Geralt nodded. Recognition passed her face.

“Gwynbleidd.” She said her eyes hardening. “It’s rare to meet one as infamous as you, and a true friend to elves.”

“I am guessing I have done something to you personally?” Geralt said standing and regarding the elf.

Regis shook his head in bemusement.

“My unit scouted Thanedd.” The elf spat. Geralt felt his gut tighten. Thanedd is where it had all gone to shit, where he had lost Ciri. Thanedd is where every event of the past twenty years had begun. Regis saw Geralt tense and his eyes begin to glow. Geralt felt old infected anger race through his system. His teeth itched, his fingers itched. Before anyone had registered movement Geralt had the elf by the throat and laid across the commanders desk. 

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t gut you where you lay ysgarthiad ichaer.” Geralt spat fury racing through him. The elf tore at his hands and her feet kicked at Geralt.

“I shall give you one Geralt.” Regis said standing quickly and wrapping his own clawed finger around the backside of Geralt’s neck, the claw digging into his jugular. Geralt growled as the pressure built and the elf slowly began to stop struggling. Spitting on her Geralt released her.

“A moment commander.” Regis said as the elf gasped for air her hands on her neck. Regis put Pressure on Geralt’s neck and lead him out of the tent then wrenched him forward hissing into his ear.

“You will get a handle on that now.” Regis spat in a whisper. “That elf in there is the key to this going off without a hitch. If you can’t control yourself all of this will be for naught.”

Geralt felt something inside him crack. His eyes blew wide Regis looked back at him surprised. Geralt Pushed Regis back into one of the walls of the ruined fort next to the command tent. Regis had resisted, but Geralt pushed him as if he were nothing. Regis’s eyes opened wide. Geralt’s lips crashed against his hard enough that he split Regis’s lip. The Scent of rain, and musk filled Geralt’s nose and pushed all the anger he was feeling into lust. He only got a drop of it, but the taste of Regis’s blood raced over him and electrified his skin. He ground into Regis’s hips. The reaction from the vampire was immediate and heated. Regis grabbed Geralt’s head his fingers tearing into his hair.

Geralt felt his world spin as he found himself up against the wall, the vampire holding both his arms above his head with one of his own. Regis tore into his mouth again and ground his hips against Geralt. Geralt could feel the vampire stiffen through the thin fabric of his loose pants. He submitted allowing the vampire to grind against him. He groaned into the vampire’s mouth then keened as Regis pulled away licking his own blood off his lip. 

“You have made your point known.” Regis said making a point to grind into Geralt eliciting a wanton moan from the white haired witcher.

“But this shall be on my terms.” Regis said using his free hand to pull Geralt’s hair and expose his neck. Regis bit him, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough that Geralt felt it. Geralt kicked his hips into the vampires as he hissed. The vampire peppered bites along his neck and down to his collarbone. 

“My terms, means on my time.” Regis said his long tongue making a trail up to Geralt’s ear. “You will submit to me. Not the other way around. You will stop when I say stop.”

“Gods Regis.” Geralt groaned. 

“Say it Geralt, say it or this is done.” Regis breathed into his ear. 

“I submit Regis.” Geralt breathed. “Gods I submit… you win.”

Regis crashed into him again their kiss more organized this time, less painful. The Lust was deep, pining. Years worth of feeling poured into it. Geralt felt his world melting, centering on one single point, one person. Regis’s Scent surrounded him intoxicating him. Geralt’s arousal filtered through the air as well pushing Regis to the breaking point. Geralt found himself falling as Regis stepped away his breath coming in ragged gasps, his cock tenting in his trousers. Geralt landed on his ass in the dirt panting with need.

“So help me Geralt you damned well better use those mutations to get yourself under control, or I will loose mine.” Regis sneered adjusting himself visibly, openly, and pointedly. His hand tracing the length of his hidden Erection before shifting it into place upright so it was hidden from view. Geralt licked at his lips, Regis’s blood was there and caused Geralt to keen in need. Willfully getting ahold of himself he kicked his mutations into high gear and shifted his blood flow from his groin. The pressure eased as he felt himself going flaccid, but he was still hopelessly turned on. The pressure shifting from his cock to the area behind his bladder. The deep thrum of that place set Geralt’s teeth on edge and he hissed.

“Regis.” Geralt moaned. The Vampires nostrils flared. Regis paced stopping to shift himself again as Geralt reigned himself in. 

“My terms, Geralt.” Regis hissed. “MY terms. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Geralt moaned his body shuddering as he slowly regained control. “Your terms.”

Shouting from the tent turned both of their heads.

“You will march yourself back in there, apologize, and then we shall leave with that damned elf in tow.” Regis sneered. “We shall place her where she needs to go, then you and I will go back to Silas’s and you and I will bathe, quickly. You will take your damned potion and we will sleep. Tomorrow needs to go off without a hitch. If those children come to any more harm then what has already befallen them, because you can’t get into the right headspace, I am just as likely as that sorcerous to kill you.”

“Gods Regis I get it… I get it.” Geralt said thumping his head against the solid rock wall behind him. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Would you like me to make a list?” Regis quipped harshly. “I could even make It in alphabetical order, starting with ‘asshole’.”

Geralt closed his eyes and huffed a laugh. 

“Get up, go back in there.” Regis said pulling at his trousers again with irritation. “I will join you in short order. And drain your face you look like you have been in the sun for a week.”

“It gives me a headache when I do it to quickly.” Geralt groused as he stood.

“Stop whining.” Regis put his fingers on his temples and rubbed. “I thought I broke you of that in our first adventure.”

“You are Feisty tonight.” Geralt grinned. 

“And you are trying my boundless patience.” Regis hissed. “GET. IN. THERE.”

Regis popped him in the shoulder hard enough that Geralt stumbled into the tent through the entrance. The Elf winced her hands still on her neck, and the commander looked as if someone had fed him nekker feet soup. Geralt cleared his throat.

“I would like to formally apologize for my outburst.” He said looking at the elf, who looked away from him in shame. “Thanedd is still a sensitive subject for me, as I lost my daughter there. Since it is a sensitive subject for me, I would ask that you not mention your involvement with it when in earshot of me.”

“You are forgiven Vatt'ghern.” The elf said her voice harsh and strained from where he had squeezed. “Know to that I have lost many, and your feelings are understood. I am sorry as well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“You are forgiven as well.” Geralt thought the admission would taste bitter, but it didn’t, it made him feel lighter.

“Now that we are done.” The Commander huffed looking at the elf. “Let me fill you in on what’s going on.”

The commander read from his notes, and Geralt interjected where needed. Somewhere in the middle Regis slipped back into the tent looking much more poised, and bathed in his usual spicy concoction of herbs and oils. Geralt could still smell him though through the parade of all the other scents. The elf eyed Regis with scrutiny as they spoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah and here we go. The orphanages true use has come to light as a bloodbank and whore house.
> 
> Fuck man it sucked to write. But I am not one to shy away from shitty things. THis kinda stuff happens all the time in our own world. 
> 
> on a lighter note... Geralt finally figured out how to actually break through to Regis, and Regis put a firm set of boundries down. GO THEM
> 
> That last little bit of heated exchange is sooooo good.... SO GOOD....
> 
> HAHHAHAHAHaH


	23. Genesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *************
> 
> “Look Regis, I am sorry, I am no good at this.” Geralt said biting at his lip. “I will back off.”
> 
>  
> 
> “You will not.” Regis fired back, his black eyes catching the dim moonlight and flashing. “You haven’t had a day to think over what I said earlier, but you started down the path anyway. This is not a game to me, and I know it isn’t a game for you either, but you are woefully misinformed about me and my species and we need to rectify it before we proceed. I. Am. Holding. Myself. Back. Completely and totally with every ounce of will I have. Every day is a struggle to not break, to give in to my instincts. I had learned to control myself over the years to the point where I let myself have the illusion of humanity. I could burry my arms fist deep in a woman and bring a child into the world without so much as breaking a sweat.”
> 
> “Now, I am not so sure, and the more that happens when I am around you, the more that control slips.” Regis said furrowing his brows. “I am a being, Geralt, of immense power, even at my weakest I could still take you and rend you limb from limb if I loose myself.”
> 
> ****** 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok warnings this chapter...
> 
> Mentions of magical manipulation for sexual acts (Vague)  
> Violence and gore
> 
> As always, no Beta... so if you see something say something
> 
> Also I love your comments and Kudos... they give me life (Comments more so then Kudos) Lemme hear from you!!!

When they left, Geralt was sure that the commander though hesitant would do his job without issue. Geralt retrieved Roach and Vlad from the stables, and the elf retrieved a lightly built Naziri racer. The horse was slender, and the only things weighing it down was the simple breath halter, a blanket, and a strap wound from the horses belly that held stirrups but no saddle. Geralt was mildly impressed. The setup was traditional and elven to a tee. 

When they mounted up and took off out of camp at a trot Geralt felt the day fully weighing on him. He was brooding. Brooding about what was going to happen in a scope that he didn’t customarily brood in. 

Regis was in lockstep beside him also brooding. Both of them wore identical frowns. Both with equally distant looks. The voice of the elf breaking through their thoughts brought Geralt back to reality.

“I know what you are.” She said bringing her horse up next to Vlad. The horse was shorter then Regis’s Gray destrier. Shorter then roach. And feisty. She was practically prancing as they walked, and tried several times to pull away from Regis.

“So does everyone it seems.” Regis sighed eyeing the elf’s horse. It shrieked and pulled away sending the elf cursing down the hillside as she wrestled to gain control. 

Geralt laughed. Which caused Regis to turn his head on him sharply. Geralt suddenly felt sheepish.

“You know Geralt I have fought for years to control myself, my feelings and my actions. Yet every time I am around you, you push me, and suddenly those barriers break, and it’s driving me up the wall.” Regis stated. “Just as I think I have mastery over myself enough to resist and feel myself relaxing, you are there, and then suddenly everything I have fought so hard to control goes out the window.”

Geralt sighed.

“Look Regis, I am sorry, I am no good at this.” Geralt said biting at his lip. “I will back off.”

“You will not.” Regis fired back, his black eyes catching the dim moonlight and flashing. “You haven’t had a day to think over what I said earlier, but you started down the path anyway. This is not a game to me, and I know it isn’t a game for you either, but you are woefully misinformed about me and my species and we need to rectify it before we proceed. I. Am. Holding. Myself. Back. Completely and totally with every ounce of will I have. Every day is a struggle to not break, to give in to my instincts. I had learned to control myself over the years to the point where I let myself have the illusion of humanity. I could burry my arms fist deep in a woman and bring a child into the world without so much as breaking a sweat.”

“Now, I am not so sure, and the more that happens when I am around you, the more that control slips.” Regis said furrowing his brows. “I am a being, Geralt, of immense power, even at my weakest I could still take you and rend you limb from limb if I loose myself.”

“Regis, I know exactly what you are.” Geralt’s voice cut through the night and Regis turned to him. “Yes I am ignorant of your culture, and your practices, and I am going to likely trample all over them like a troll in a wildflower field.” Geralt said. “But I am a witcher. I break. I heal. And it takes a lot to break me. I can take what you give because I know, both through this…”

Geralt motioned to his heart.

“And through this.”

Geralt motioned to his head.

“That you will be physically unable to harm me in any way that wont have me smiling for weeks afterwards.” Geralt said pursing his lips.

“But what if I do?” Regis’s voice was quiet. The elf had finally gotten ahold of her horse and was trotting back to them.

“You can’t.” Geralt said. “The pack bond will prevent it. You said yourself you can’t wound members of your pack. My guess is and correct me if I am wrong, I can dictate what I will and will not allow, and the bond will prevent it from escalating no matter how out of your mind you get.”

Regis looked shocked.

“You have been overthinking this from the get-go.” Geralt said sidling up to Regis and letting his leg brush against the vampires. “Your need to protect me from yourself, your fear that somehow I will disappear, or worse, turn on you if you suffer a moment of lapse. They are completely unfounded.”

“But what happened today… your ears.” Regis said.

“Regis, people, even with the best intentions accidently hurt each other all the time.” Geralt said. “It’s something that we can’t avoid. But the bond? That will prevent you from taking my life. And I you.”

Geralt shifted himself in the saddle, blood was trying to find it’s way back to his groin.

“Now, lets stop. The elf is back, and I am tired. My control isn’t what it should be.” Geralt huffed a piece of stray hair off his head. 

“You have given me much to think about.” Regis grumbled and pursed his lips.

“Could you not scare my damned horse please?” The elf shot around the Witcher and the vampire her horse still half panicking.

Regis rolled his eyes and leaned down near Vlad’s ear. He whispered something to the horse and the horse brought his neck up straight his ears forward. 

“Let her approach him, it’s easier for them to convey things to one other rather then me attempting to influence your horse.” Regis said halting Vlad. Roach pointedly reached over and bonked the larger horse’s neck with her nose. Vlad snorted. The elf willfully led her spirited Naziri over to the two horses that stood stoically.

There was a moment of tension between the horses, where Geralt pointedly yawned. And then the Naziri snorted.

They began trotting again in silence, though the Naziri had calmed the horse still kept trying to inch away from Regis any chance she got.

“I know what you are.” The elf said again. “And I want to know, on a personal curiosity level why you are helping humans rescue children?”

“You are Scoia'tael are you not?” Regis lifted his brow at the elf. 

“Was.” She said looking bitter.

“What would you have done if you came upon an encampment of humans while with your unit that had children that were being abused by their captors?” Regis said narrowing his eyes at the elf.

“We would have killed them.” The elf looked down her hands working at the reigns. “All of them”

“I hear we, but not you.” Regis said. “You have to answer the question correctly first for me to answer mine.”

“I… would have not.” The elf said looking away bitterly. “I…. did not.”

“So it would you like me to judge you by what your commando did? Or by what you would have done personally had you been given the chance?” Regis asked his voice soft yet firm. “The beings of this world, all of them do many things they otherwise would not if left to their own devices. That includes my own species. I am saving human children because it is the right thing to do.”

The rest of the short ride to the city was spent in silence. Geralt led them to SIlias’s house where they stabled the horses. Then they set off for the market district where Janina made her home amongst some of the most expensive in the city. Regis put his bubble back up, obscuring them from view. Geralt was without his disguise, now it didn’t matter if someone recognized him the plan was in motion. There were vampires about. Slinking into and out of houses, taverns, down alleys. Geralt tested the air. All of them were lesser vampires. 

They stepped down an alleyway, and Geralt jumped and hauled himself up onto a rooftop. The elf followed suit grabbing Geralt’s hand. When they stood Regis was already in front of them eyeing the tightly built multi storied houses. 

“Which one is hers?” Geralt asked as the elf started walking silently keeping to the shadows. 

“Over there.” The elf pointed to a house with large windows and a balcony that surrounded it. The three raced silently over the rooftops coming to a stop on the next roof over. They hopped down onto the balcony of the house next door. The house was empty, but whoever had lived here had made a trellis that gave the three ample cover. They peered in but it was dark.

“Are you sure she is staying here?” Regis whispered. The elf nodded.

An hour passed. It was midnight. The trio had yet to move. Geralt was starting to get antsy. If she didn’t come home his plan would be in limbo. He knew she didn’t have a bed there. The only beds that were there were for the children and the night caretakers, and the one room where the beds were used for anything but sleeping. 

There was a commotion down on the road and Geralt leaned as far over the balcony as he dared. He heard the elf sigh in relief as Janina came into view walking between two intoxicated men. Her dress that had been revealing before had slipped as the trio crashed down the street in a drunken stupor. The three passed into the house and the torches were lit room by room lighting up the windows. Geralt Regis and the elf waited pensively. When she finally appeared in her room with the two men in tow she had lost her skirts and bodice. None of the trio were paying any sort of attention to anything but each other. 

Geralt felt his amulet jump as she cast something and then the two men started going at each other as she watched. 

“Humans never cease to amaze me with their inborn need to fuck as much as possible.” The elf spat causing Regis to snort. 

“We are staking her place out, don’t get him started.” Geralt said lowly eyeing the vampire as he moved to speak. 

“We will leave you to it. Remember, when she leaves follow her. To make sure she is going to the gate, then light the flare.” Geralt said his eyes reflecting the light from the house. Causing them to shine like a mirror. The elf nodded and crouched down her eyes not leaving the house. Geralt motioned for Regis to follow him and the two took to the rooftops once more.

“How many did you spot.” Geralt said as soon as He and Regis were out of earshot of the elf. 

“Six.” Regis said scowling. “All lesser vampires. Nothing stronger then mula.” 

“and they can all retain human form?” Geralt said surprised. 

“All of them are well fed.” Regis spat. “More then well fed if I am to be perfectly honest.”

“There more there then a simple ‘they ate the kids’.” Geralt said hopping off the rooftop and down into an alleyway well away from the house. 

Regis shifted and hissed. Geralt instantly had Aerondight drawn. A shimmer in front of them is all the warning Geralt had before an ekimmara appeared and lunged. It stumbled, drunk. Geralt could smell blood on it’s breath. Geralt didn’t wait for it to swipe at him. Using the swords length to his advantage he threw is weight into a parry darting underneath the Ekimmara arms. Then as soon as he felt the sword strike through and saw the runes brighten he twisted his body and pulled the sword upwards with a yell. The sword split the vampire from it’s navel to the top of the head. The halves flopped over and the lower body convulsed. Geralt spared a look back to Regis who was panting pacing and snapping at the air, but not moving any further forward.

Turning back to the Ekimmara Geralt again rushed forward. He chopped of the arms, and the legs flinging them to opposite sides of the alleyway. Then he bent forward where the two halves were trying to meet again. He spread them apart and Reached inside the vampire’s head. The cut hadn’t been truly in half. He had been off by millimeters. He found what he was looking for and pulled it out. The body on the ground stilled. He then crushed the small pulsating organ with his fingers.

Regis balked. 

Geralt groaned looking at himself.

“You know I am just not going to wash this damned thing till this is over.” Geralt groused.

“How did you know what to do to kill that Ekimmara?” Regis said his voice that strange hazy double layered timber it got when he shifted.

“Witcher remember?” Geralt said wiping Aerondight on the Ekimmara fur. “It’s drilled into us. Vesemir used to say ‘Remember, when you face an Ekimmara always strike it true and center.’. I didn’t strike true and center, I was just off. But that little gland, or whatever it was, is the key to vampire regeneration in them. Others have those points located elsewhere. Some are bigger, some smaller, and some in odd places. Further still are the ones where we actually don’t know where it’s located. Bruxa, higher vampires.”

Regis shifted back and wobbled before sitting down on a discarded barrel. 

“How do you handle Bruxa?” Regis asked reaching into his bag and grabbing his bottle of moonshine he replenished at Fen carn.

“The same way you saw the other night.” Geralt said with a shrug and sheathed his sword. “Only way is to just chop them into bits with vampire oil on the blade, nail them with a moon dust bomb, or have them bite you with black blood. Bites are always a risk.”

“As was evidenced.” Regis said taking a swig off the bottle.

“At least there is one less.” Geralt said looking at the body. “Eskel would be having a field day.”

“The one with the scars pulling at his lip?” Regis said offering the bottle to Geralt. Geralt lumbered over and sat next to Regis just far enough away that he wasn’t touching the vampire.

“Yeah, a lot of the knowledge we have gained back or gained in general in the past century is because of him.” Geralt said taking a draw. “He never got rid of that child like curiosity of how things worked. And his abilities to scan with his magic make him honestly probably the best witcher there is out there. You wouldn’t know it by looking at his face, but of the five of us left from the wolf school he and Ciri have the least amount of scars. Ciri because she is new, and Eskel because he is studious and smart.”

“What happened to his face?” Regis asked as Geralt handed the bottle back and he stashed it back into his bag. 

“His child surprise happened to be a child of the black sun, and a psychopath.” Geralt said hefting himself up. “that was no monster that did that to him, but a human.”

The pair traveled back to the Alderman’s estate within the city. It was well past midnight now. When they got there Geralt had a meal sent to his room for the both of them, and he stripped and gave the confused maid a few crowns and told her to “Clean his armor off the best she could.”

Geralt then stripped off his well soiled clothes and plodded towards the bathroom with a towel in tow, leaving Regis in the room. Geralt thought he would have a moment to himself and hastily washed his body and hair before jumping into the clean bathwater and heating it to his liking with igni before settling down for a soak. His muscles began their attempt to relax, but everything was burning from his lack of sleep, his swift battle with the Ekimmara, and unattended physical needs. He reached over the edge of the tub and grabbed a bottle of white honey and allowed it to begin to purge of black blood and swallow from his system. 

A small click and the sound of soft feet on the floor alerted him to someone coming. He could smell him. Regis. His scent was thick in the air, along with his typical herbs and oils. 

“Just me.” Regis said softly. Geralt closed his eyes and let himself relax. 

“mmm, yeah, could smell you the second you walked in the door.” Geralt said his lids heavy. He heard Regis sit next to him on a bathing stool next to the tub. Then felt his eyes snap open when the bucket hit the bathwater.

“Hey now…” Geralt looked over the edge of the tub and saw Regis fussing with the tie in his hair sitting down with his back to him. It was the first time in years he had seen the vampire in any sort of state of undress and he found his eyes lingering over the expanse of the vampire’s back as his hair fell in loose waves once it was untied. Fine dark hairs covered his shoulders and bare arms. 

“Paint a picture Geralt, it will last longer.” Regis said dumping part of the bucket over his hair.

Geralt scoffed and watched as the vampire lathered his hair up with an efficient and practiced ease. He felt his groin tightening, and he slid further into the water. His body was at war with itself. He was so damned tired, but the idea that Regis was sitting mere feet away in nothing but his birthday suit sent ricochets of lust through Geralt. Something else was there too. Something far fonder. Something Geralt didn’t have a name for. He sighed blowing bubbles to the waters surface. He was lost in his own thoughts when he heard the splash of water and the clean smell of soap wafted up. He sat up to ask Regis if he wanted him to refill his bucket, but the vampire was already mid motion and standing in front of the tub. 

Regis froze. Geralt Froze. 

Geralt felt his capillaries open up and heat flood to his face. Gripping with himself he found himself seeing the vampire in crystal clear detail. The fine lines in his skin, the wrinkles that formed and hid his navel as he was leaned over, the tensing in the tendon’s of the vampires legs as he held himself still. The fine hair that covered him that was thicker on his forearms and calves. The hair that was thicker on his chest, then thinned only to thicken again down to his groin. He looked up quickly and saw the bruise that was healing on the vampire’s lip, the cut already gone. The way the water beaded and dripped off his hair and mutton chops. His thick eye brows, the moles on his skin. The high and pronounced Cheekbones. And the Vampire’s black eyes. It was like seeing him for the first time. 

Regis broke the moment by breaking eye contact and huffing softly dipping the bucket in the water and then going back over to lather himself in soap. Geralt felt himself panicking internally. He had this feeling before. Back when he and Yennefer had truly loved one another. He had seen her much the same way once, a moment, fleeting where he memorized every detail and flaw of the woman. The moment in hindsight was a wonderful one, one that kindled fondness for the woman. The realization that he was going through that exact same feeling with a different person, with Regis, a vampire, startled him. He suddenly felt awkward and inadequate. 

“Your mixed signals are going to be the death of me.” Regis said quietly looking over his shoulder as he let the suds run down his back. 

“And me.” Geralt said peaking his eyes over the lip of the tub. 

Their eyes met, and Regis smiled mischievously.

Regis turned back around and continued to wash himself. The movements were purposeful at first but as Regis continued the sponge slowed. Geralt felt his hands twitch under the water. As the vampire moved to continue to scrub Geralt felt his breath hitch. He watched in abject fascination as Regis stretched his back letting the taught muscles there move group by group as he moved the sponge on the front of his body. When he lifted his arm to let the soap do it’s job Geralt felt his teeth tighten as the vampires broad but toned shoulders moved. The muscles were slightly different under his skin, just different enough that Geralt noticed. Yet another small otherworldly thing about the being before him. The movements were masculine and alien. There was strength trapped beneath the skin. 

He didn’t realize Regis had stopped till he felt the vampire’s eyes on him. Geralt opened his mouth to speak but his tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth. Regis scrutinized his face before setting down the sponge, and rinsed himself off. Geralt breathed a sigh of relief and sunk back into the tub his hair floating around his shoulders. 

Whatever he expected to happen next, Regis slipping into the other side of the tub was not it. Geralt pulled himself up and felt his eyes widening. That feeling of awkwardness returned and his muscles suddenly felt impossibly tight, and his legs large and long and just, everywhere they shouldn’t be. Regis laced his own legs around Geralt’s letting his feet rest behind the witchers hips on the wall of the tub. Geralt was trapped. He was trying impossibly not to touch the vampire, every time he shifted and he felt the vampires skin, he felt like he had touched fire. 

“What do you want Geralt.” Regis breathed said leaning up as Geralt tried to lean back. 

“A… a nap?” Geralt winced, closed his eyes, and cursed his mouth for running ahead of his brain. Regis shifted himself bringing himself closer. When Geralt opened his eyes the vampire was inches away from his face.

“Is that all.” Regis said a sly smile crossing his face. Geralt felt his eyes blow wide, and Regis’s mirrored his. Geralt felt suddenly overwhelmed. All his anger induced bravado from earlier had left him. He felt like he was failing. 

“Regis… I…” Geralt had never felt so torn as he did now. Everything in him was screaming at him move, to run, to ravage. He was shaking suddenly. His teeth felt like they were getting ready to chatter though the water was warm, more then warm. 

“My terms, Geralt.” Regis said his grin becoming wicked. “You tell me what you want.” 

Regis shifted and brought their cocks into contact with one another. Geralt squeezed the sides of the tub hard enough that the porcelain grinded with the strain. 

“T…touch me.” Geralt voice cracked embarrassingly causing Regis to grin further. He had never seen this expression on his face. Hunger, lust, and a self surety that was hiding behind that mask of a persona he had to keep up for years to blend in. “Touch me, let me… touch you.”

Regis’s scent flooded him. Rainwater and that heady deep scented musk he knew down to his core had to be arousal. It keyed his brain into overdrive. 

“You understand we are at a crossroads.” Regis said his fingers slowly making their way along Geralt’s leg. “I am going to allow myself this. You need to understand what this means.”

“I saw…. I saw it.” Geralt choked. “I saw what happens. I felt what happens. I know. Deep down to my core I know. The resonance….”

Geralt didn’t get another word in when Regis crashed into him. The storm flooded through him as Regis kissed him hard and demanding. Geralt shifted his legs and brought Regis closer his back lifting off the wall. He let his arms slide around Regis’s back squeezing and touching every inch of him he could reach. He felt himself shutting off Dettlaff automatically. This was his and Regis’s moment. 

He broke the kiss and hissed as Regis’s claws carved their way down his back. Geralt brought an arm around as he shifted his other to Regis’s lower back. He kissed him again short, and felt Regis lean forward for more. He kissed along the vampire’s jaw and the sound that broke loose as he sucked at the vampire’s pulse curled his toes. He found Regis’s cock, and let his fingers explore the length. His hand found the base and he cupped his hands through the hair and the sack beneath, noting how it tensed and relaxed every time Geralt kissed the vampire. 

He brought his hand back up cupping his fingers around the back for pressure, and he ran his thumb up Regis’s length his callused thumb providing a beautiful friction in the water. He ran his thumb along the underside of the base of the head and Regis slammed his hips forward. 

“Gods Geralt, don’t tease me so.” Regis hissed. 

“You love it.” Geralt rumbled against the vampire’s neck. And began to find a rhythm. Regis held onto him for a moment before bringing him in for another kiss. Regis’s hand slipped down and found him. Geralt felt his whole body lean forward the kiss becoming demanding. Soon their movement’s mirrored. Geralt pulled away from the kiss and buried his face in the crook of Regis’s neck. Geralt felt himself fast approaching the point of no return. When Regis bit his ear he moaned, the two points of pleasure fusing in on each other. 

“That’s it… That’s it Geralt.” The way Regis said his name caused him to call out, his body bucking upwards. 

Geralt felt a clawed hand under his chin and he looked up. 

“Watch me Geralt.” Regis hissed. “Watch what you do to me.”

Geralt couldn’t do anything but as Regis let go. The vampire keened his eyes going black. Geralt increased the speed and pressure And felt himself growling low in his throat. The vampire’s breath caught. Then his thrust against Geralt’s hand roughly His body spasming out of the water. Geralt couldn’t hold himself back either. The orgasm caused Regis’s hand to squeeze around him and Geralt called out. He felt himself follow over the edge the smell of sex surrounding them and permeating the bath water like a miasma. He felt the water heat by his hand as He road out his orgasm again burring himself in Regis’s neck as Regis arched his back. He lifted his hand away from Regis and the vampire jolted and fell backwards into the water boneless. Geralt fell back as well hitting his head on the porcelain and swearing. 

Both of them panted and Geralt felt himself shaking. They were entangled and sated. 

“I could fall asleep right here.” Regis said scratching idly at his knee with his claws.

“mmmm that would mean I would have to ring you out in the morning.” Geralt said shifting. “And we have the option of a bed. My line of work, always take the bed when you have the chance.”

“I suppose you are right, but that requires movement, something I am not entirely sure I can handle at the moment.” Regis said pulling his leg to him and letting one of Geralt’s free. Geralt groaned and sat up, letting Regis’s other leg free. The vampire flexed his knee and Geralt pulled his legs under him. His cock was still overly sensitive and he hissed with the movement to pull himself out of the tub. 

He stood upright finally stretching all of his muscles. He heard Regis hmmm from the tub and looked back to the vampire.

“Paint a picture it lasts longer.” Geralt said turning and facing the tub. 

“The curtain does match the drapes.” Regis quipped his black hair floating around his head in the water. 

“You knew that already.” Geralt said looking at his hip. “You stitched this up remember?” 

“Yes, and I remember how indignant you were that I had to remove your pants to do so.” Regis smiled.

“Ulterior motives much?” Geralt snarked.

“Yes, because Dandelion panicking in my ear is the most erotic thing I have ever had the pleasure to listen to.” Regis laughed throaty and relaxed.

“Come on, foods waiting, and sleep.” Geralt reached over and offered his hand to the vampire. The second their hands met Geralt felt a spark again. Both himself and Regis pulled away as if shocked.

“What was that?” Geralt asked reaching out again. Regis grasped his hand even though the same jolt passed through them again.

“I have never experienced this before?” Regis said his brows furrowed in confusion. “Could be a witcher thing?”

“Not sure?” Geralt said taking an appreciative view of the vampire once again. “We have magic, but I have never had an after effect like that?”

Geralt grabbed their towels and tossed one to Regis. Then Geralt toweled himself and his hair out. 

The clock struck two bells.

When they arrived back to Geralt’s room they ate ravenously. Cold cooked chicken some wild rice, and some leek soup waited for them along with a decanter of watered wine. 

They slipped on some knickers, and Geralt crawled into bed flopping face first into the pillow. A nudge made him grumble.

“Come on one last thing,” Regis said his weight settling on the bed. 

Geralt pushed himself upright on his elbows. And took the vial that Regis offered. He downed it quickly and handed it back to the vampire. Regis set it on the bedside table and Geralt flopped back down again with a huff. 

When Regis’s weight left the bed he flipped his head around.

“Where ya going?” He said looking up at the vampire through his damp hair. 

“Oh, well we were given separate rooms…” Regis said. “I just assumed….”

Geralt wiggled himself around so he was under the blanket, then he lifted it up and patted the bed. Regis looked like he had given him the world for Yule. With no more hesitation he crawled under the covers and Geralt wrapped his large warm arms around the cool vampire. Regis nuzzled into his chest.

“You are going to spoil me with this Geralt.” Regis said his breath tickling he hair on Geralt’s chest. 

“It’s the least I can do for all you have done for me.” Geralt said tiredly his arms squeezing the vampire. 

“Good night Geralt.”

“Good night Regis.”

Geralt as usual fell asleep right away, and Regis drifted off with his ear pressed to Geralt’s chest, the slow pump lulling him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH LOOK
> 
> FINALLLLLLLLY
> 
> Awkward tired Geralt is best Geralt.
> 
> Regis finally allowing himself to actually act on his feelings.
> 
> YAY
> 
> FINALLY


	24. Extrication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The attack on the orphanage begins.....
> 
> ********
> 
> “Bite him!” Geralt screamed. The boy did, clamped down till his blunted human teeth drew blood. The katakan screamed and threw the child. Regis had re-appeared and caught the boy and brought him close to his chest before ducking low again and navigating through the throng out of sight. Geralt faced the katakan again as it slashed at a soldier that had approached with it’s injured hand. Geralt leapt his sword raised only to be tackled by a female alp this time. Geralt felt the air rush out of him as he landed hard on the floor his leg caught in one of the desks. The alp was on top of him. He pulled out a moondust bomb and activated it, rolling it just past the alp as he held her with his sword hand. He twisted and turned his back shielding his head as the bomb exploded, the concussion making his ears ring and the silver shrapnel biting into his exposed skin.
> 
> ********

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK ALL HERE WE GO
> 
> Warnings this chapter
> 
> BATTLE bloody and fierce  
> Child captives  
> Child death  
> Child injury  
> Stockholm syndrome  
> Disembowlment  
> Death of non major characters
> 
> And finally, Regis's shitty curiosity getting in the way of his good judgement at the end...
> 
> As always, no beta... you see something say something!

Geralt bolted upright with a start when his amulet vibrated and Ciri’s voice filtered through his ears. The swiftness of the movement dislodged Regis from his nook and the vampire started his hands flailing out and nicking Geralt’s thigh. Geralt cursed.

“What’s going on, Geralt, are you ok?” Regis said inspecting the shallow cut on Geralt’s thigh as fumbled the wolf’s head into his hands.

“Bad time?” Ciri said her voice pulsing through the amulet.

“Was asleep.” Geralt said his voice still thick. 

“With Regis?” Ciri’s voice filtered through slyly. Geralt groaned.

“Does it matter?” Geralt said feeling defensive in his sleepiness.

“Of course it matters, now at least I can breath easy.” Ciri said laughing. “You have no idea how hard it’s been the past week to keep his feelings about you under wraps.”

“You knew??” Geralt said incredulous. 

“Thank you Cirilla, I truly appreciate your digression.” Regis said smiling fondly and slipping out of bed to grab rag and alcohol.

“Of course I knew.” Ciri said. “You admitted your liking for him while you were drugged. Regis well, he has been pining for you for ages. You have the emotional IQ of a potato, so the fact that you actually figured it out is impressive.”

Geralt rubbed the sleep from his eyes. As Regis laughed, a hardy full laugh. Ten bells sounded in the distance.

“Amulet is not for chitchatting Ciri.” Geralt grumbled heat rising to his cheeks. “We have a big day, and need to prep. What’s going on.”

“I had to blink Geralt. She was pissed.” Ciri said her tone turning serious. “We wound up fighting, she couldn’t touch me of course, but she did not take the news kindly that she was on the Elder’s shit list.”

“I expected she wouldn’t” Geralt said hissing as Regis dabbed the rag on his leg. “What of the Dopplers?” 

“Home safe, paid, and soon to disappear.” Ciri said. “She came after them, they fought well for a time. Actually held her off. She got Regis first, then you after she realized what was going on.”

“What of the fiend?” Geralt asked.

“Killed it, easy peasy. Poor thing was on it’s last legs anyway.” Ciri said. “He had a terrible limp from an old injury and he was ancient, and starving. He was eating that orchard to the bark he was so desperate for food.”

“Did you get paid?” Geralt asked as Regis stood up again and went over to the table where Geralt’s armor had been laid out cleaner then it had been even after the Nilfgaardian's cleaned it.

“Of course.” He could hear Ciri’s smirk through the amulet. “Rickard and his men didn’t expect me to off it so fast. They handed the money over grudgingly and Orianna caught us on the way out.”

“Do you know where she was headed Cirilla?” Regis asked as he began to dress pulling on his trousers and an undershirt. 

“Beauclair.” Ciri said. “Told her that you wanted to meet with her, she laughed in my face. I told her you were getting ready to depart to attack the orphanage and that if she wanted to catch you she would have to do so before you left.”

“Smart move.” Geralt said nodding. “Regis, how long is it from Metinna from her as the vampire flies?”

“Due to the new moon this evening, It would take about three days. Her Bat form will be unavailable to her for the next two.” Regis said. 

“What about yours?” Geralt said his eyes widening. 

“I am not limited to moon cycles.” Regis said huffing. “Mind you I feel much stronger, and my transformations take far less energy during the full moons.”

“That means that the vampires tonight wont be as bad!” Geralt said giddily. 

“Geralt this is not exactly why I called.” Ciri said her voice sounding strained. “I will not be in Beauclair when you arrive back. I have been sent on a special errand. I will find you at Corvo Bianco when I get back. The Emperor’s caravan has been delayed. Becca has fallen ill from the plague.”

“Yeah, we saw a manifest her for a new shipment to Nilfgaard.” Geralt said. “I didn’t know she was traveling with the Emperor?”

“She wasn’t, but he is under advisement to stay put till they can make sure everyone in the caravan or approaching the caravan is inoculated.” Ciri said. “He is stopped in Vizima at the moment, and boy do I have news for you on that front too.” 

“Ok… one last thing then we really have to go.” Geralt said.

“Foltest was about to sign a treaty to join Nilfgaard before he died.” Ciri said stunning Geralt into silence. “Letho had been sent by the Emperor to kill him should he not sign. He put off the signing to attempt to get his children back from Lady LaValette. Letho didn’t get the memo and went through with it.”

Geralt balked.

“Not only that but because none of his children were validated at the time, He had one name as his predecessor should he fall. Someone who only learned of this recently.” Ciri said smugness coming through. “A certain Duke of Redania and Temeria is now King.”

“You are absolutely pulling my leg.” Geralt said flipping himself off the bed and rushing over to his clothes 

“Vernon king of Temeria and Redania, prince of Sodden, sovereign of Pontaria and Mahakam as well as the senior protector of Brugge and Ellander.” Ciri laughed. “And that wasn’t the worst of it.”

“Ciri….” Geralt warned pulling on his pants and tunic. 

“When Emhyr introduced him, and told him to address his people, he made his first proclamation as King immediately, with a certain Scoia’tael at his side.” Ciri’s voice was giddy. “He proclaimed that all Scoia’tael would be forgiven of their crimes, those in prison released, and those that had died posthumously awarded with Redanian and Temerian seals of valor and their families paid the same stipend that was paid to the Temerian and Redanian families that lost their lives in the war with Nilfgaard and others. He then went on to say that from that day forward the killing of non-humans would not be tolerated, and the killing of humans by non-humans would be treated in the same way. He effectively stopped the genocide.”

“What the fuck did Emhyr do?” Geralt practically shouted.

“After he made the proclamation the people were in an uproar. Of course.” Ciri said. “Emhyr pointedly stood up in front of the whole of Temeria and Redania and told them that His will was spoken through Vernon, and that he had his full support, and would extend the forgiveness throughout the realm. He then said that any attempts at circumventing the order, or treating of each other as lesser would not be tolerated, especially by those of the ruling class, and that he would be making reparations for the Elf’s and the Dwarf’s lost lands.”

“How the fuck is he going to fund it?!” Geralt barked causing Regis to wince. 

“Language in front of the lady Geralt.” He said smiling. 

“You don’t have much time, but I would talk to Morvran when you get back, he has more details about that end of things.” Ciri said. 

“Ok lots to take in.” Geralt said. “Gonna review fast, Orianna is pissed, knows she is a target of the unseen elder. You will not be in Beauclair when we get back. Roche is now king. The Scoia’tael have been forgiven, the Emperor supports this, and Morvran Voorhis has more information.”

“You got it.” Ciri said laughing. “Keep safe you two.” 

“As always Cirilla, you keep safe as well.” Regis said pulling on his leather overcoat. 

“What he said, love you.” Geralt huffed.

“Love you too Geralt.” 

The amulet silenced. 

“Has the world gone mad while I slept?” Regis said incredulously sitting down at the table and nibbling at the leftovers of last night. “Why don’t you sit and eat Geralt.”

“Can’t” Geralt said heading to the toilet. “One of the first rules of fighting in a battle according to Vesemir. “Empty yourself before you set out, and leave food for the victory. No one will respect a witcher who shits himself in the fray.”

“And how often have you shit yourself in a fight Geralt?” Regis asked arching a brow.

“More times then I am willing to admit.” Geralt laughed heading out the door. 

When he returned he donned his armor and brushed his hair and greased it back and put it into a tight pony tail. He then set out his potions box and replenished those that he had used with this stock from the saddlebags, and placed key ones on his belt and baldric that he could have at the ready. He strapped moondust bombs on his belt and baldric, and strapped two Silver chains to his belt. He then got out both of his swords, and polished them and sharpened their edges. He put a coat of silver nitrate on both, and then He then went over both with Vampire oil. 

The speed at which he did this while Regis lounged patently didn’t surprise the vampire. This is how it always was. When Geralt headed to the door the bells were striking eleven. Silas met them in the entryway.

“I can’t thank you enough for what you are doing here today.” Silas said rubbing at his healing shoulder. “I wish you a clean hunt, and will hope both of you return safe and unscathed. Regis, we are keeping the medical tent open, I have been filled in on the martial law. There is an old tunnel leading from the fort to here that no one but myself and the commander and now you know about. As soon as the children are triaged and ready to move, they will be brought here. I have more then enough room to house them till we can find their families, and more then enough room to house those that are left till we can rebuild again.”

“Your heart, like your fathers is amazingly generous.” Regis intoned clasping Silas’s hand. “I hope that this day and night find you well.”

“Good luck Witcher Geralt.” Silas inclined his head.

“Good luck Silas.” Geralt nodded back then strode out the door. 

Roach was ready and waiting. Geralt quickly strapped his saddlebags to the horse, and Regis strapped his to Vlad’s. Both of them took off through the city at a gallop. The feeling in the city was different. People saw Geralt streaking towards the fort gate and knew who he was at once. The white wolf had arrived, and he silently raced through creating more hope in a single moment then they had in two years. He saw families rushing to bar themselves in as he passed, and wide eyes. 

He would not let them down. 

When he blasted out of the gate into the countryside and towards the fort his soul focus was the upcoming rescue. Storm clouds had begun to gather. The air was chill, and was threatening rain. For once he didn’t mind. When Geralt and Regis rushed through the gate at Fort Dillingen squires were waiting, and they took the horses to the staging area within the fort to eat and be watered. Geralt walked towards the commander’s tent with Regis in tow. 

“Geralt good to see you.” The commander said, surrounded by senior lieutenants. All hard faced men but one. 

“I have taken your plan and separated it out into tasks for my men, here,” Geralt looked at the unit dispersal and nodded approvingly. 

“Do we have enough carts for transportation?” Geralt asked peaking out of the tent to the flurry of activity outside. 

“Yes, and more if necessary.” The Commander said looking at his requisition lists. “In a case like this I would rather have to many then too few.”

“Do your men understand what is there?” Geralt said sternly. 

“I have given them preparation yes.” The Commander said. “They have been informed of the horrors they are to face.”

“Please introduce me to the unit that will be with me during the rescue.” Geralt said motioning for the commander to come outside of the tent. “And Please introduce Regis to the medics so he can speak with them about the injuries they are about to treat.”

“Right away, men, dismissed. Va Fial.” The commander lead Geralt and Regis out of the tent. 

The first stop was for Regis. The medics were mostly new and fresh faced and looked to Regis as a sort of medical god when he started to criticize their setup and rearrange tools. He left the vampire as he was ranting about having coagulants at the ready as it was vampires that had gotten ahold of the children, and they were likely to be anemic and full of the plague.

When the commander introduced him to his unit he sighed a breath of relief. These were hardened men with soft hearts. Chosen specifically because of their kind faces, and skills with the blade. 

“I gave them the overview, but you may want to go over the fine details with them.” The commander said. 

Geralt grunted in response. 

“You know what we are there to do.” Geralt said addressing the men. “I am shit with words, but what we are going to see in there is horrible. Even by war standards. There will be dead children. In certain areas at least a hundred of them. There are torture chambers where the children have been bled dry. There will be vampires. You need to have silver rings around your neck and cuffs. Kill them, but if you see a Bruxa let me know and I will handle her. I need to capture two as they are key to my plans after you leave. They are not to be touched except by me and I will not tolerate anyone who steps out of line. Our goal is capture two, the rest are fair game for elimination. If there are any human’s present in the labs, capture them. They can be taken for questioning. If you feel your life is in mortal danger you have my permission to protect yourself.”

The men nodded their faces pale and stony.

“The ones that go to secure the bodies, you will need to have lamp oil. There is no way that we can transport all of the dead, and they need to be burned otherwise this whole area will be overrun with Necrophages. Their stench has already been drawing them near as I have seen tracks about. All of this is to be done in perfect silence as much as possible. Those that Guard the bodies, be on guard as their will likely be vampires that attempt to get at them before they try to escape. You have been given silver swords and moon dust bombs. Keep away from the bombs once you light them. Their effects at range wont hurt you, but the concussive blast can and will injure you and the silver shards are like shrapnel. Regis will be providing vampire oil for your blades.”

“At this point once the orphanage is secure the other units need to come in and start taking items and effects away. This needs to be done quickly and with care. Nothing can be destroyed. We need everything. Beds, toys, drawings, paints. Leave nothing behind.”

“Everything in the lab needs to be secured as well. The lab will be tricky as there are caustic chemicals and explosives. Secure them carefully. Crate them, label them, and transport them to the fort. After all this is complete Regis and I will escort you out of the caves. You are to retreat back to the fort and hold fast. Regis and I will handle the rest. The signal that the operation is over will be the orphanage in flames. Is that clear?”

The course from the men sounded in unison. 

“Yeá vatt'ghern!”

“Good. Now ready your horses, and ready the scouts.” Geralt said his eyes hard. The soldiers began to disperse in their separate directions to get ready. Geralt sighed and sagged. 

“You would have made an excellent General Witcher.” The commander said clapping Geralt on the back. 

“Maybe in another life.” Geralt said looking at the sky as it began to darken. 

The two walked back to the medical tent, and by the time they got there the first drops of rain began to fall. Geralt collected his and Regis’s cloaks from Roach and Vlad respectively and walked into the triage where Regis was ordering the medical personnel and quizzing them on what to use and when to use it. His eyes lit up when he saw Geralt and walked over to the Witcher.

“It seems as though they need to re-learn everything from the ground up.” Regis groused. “A field command is no place to be picky about care, but with the plague about, aseptic technique is going to be paramount. All of the men here have been inoculated by yours truly, and while you scout and prepare we will distribute the rest to the men that are here before we take off.” Regis said looking on as bandages were being cut and Sheets were being prepared tools boiled, and catgut prepped for stitching and bone saws ready for cutting. 

Geralt clasped Regis’s shoulder the same feeling of shock bouncing through his hand as last night, but now familiar. Regis leaned into his touch slightly.

“So it was a lovers row my men saw last night.” The commander said smiling and eyeing the two. Regis stiffened but Geralt left his hand where it was.

“In a sense.” Geralt said cryptically.

Regis smiled and pulled himself away as he saw someone struggling and darted over to help.

“Poor Eliyen thought it was her last day in this world.” The commander said smiling. “I meant what I said she is worth her weight in gold. That little elf has been with me for nearly three years. I had to pull teeth to get her out of prison and assigned to my unit.”

“I have news on that front as well.” Geralt said turning to the commander. “Brugge has a new high protector.”

The commander paled. 

“Who?”

“Vernon Roche has been named King of Temeria and Redania, and by proxy has inherited all titles and functions.” Geralt said smiling. 

“The bloody blue stripes commander?!” The man yelled causing pause among the bustle. “When?!”

“Yesterday.” Geralt said as people bowed their heads and went back to their tasks. “Here is the kicker. His first act as King, and backed up by the Emperor himself, was to forgive all crimes committed by the Scoia’tael, and to release them from prison. Any of them that died in battle fighting for Nilfgaard, or against Nilfgaard are getting posthumous awards of valor. Discrimination against the elves is now considered a treasonous offence from border to border in Nilfgaard.”

“How do you know this?” The commander stammered in wonderment. 

“I have my ways.” Geralt said smiling. 

“I… I must write her a formal letter of pardon.” The commander stammered. “Her father died fighting for the Scoia’tael, she almost did. Her husband is still in prison in Cintra rotting away in a cell. She is going to be overjoyed.”

“Consider the news a small price to pay for my ill guided revenge.” Geralt sighed smiling. 

“You keep providing hope for those of us who lost ours. The ballads about your deeds must be true.” The commander said in awe. “I had my doubts when you walked in here last night, but the amount of hope in this place in the last 24 hours hasn’t been around since Nilfgaard invaded. Thank you witcher.”

The bell began to toll twelve.

“Lets get this show on the road.” Geralt said turning and walking back over to Regis who was currently fussing about the best way to use linen, and how to cut it properly, to a young medical recruit who seemed to be hanging on his every word.

“Twelve bells Regis. Prepare and be ready.” Geralt said squeezing the vampires shoulder. 

“Since when have I ever not been ready Geralt.” Regis snarked smiling his tight lipped smile. “You are always the last to show up.” 

Geralt laughed and turned heading for roach and the scouts.

As it turned out Regis wasn’t wrong. He was the last to arrive and the last to mount up. Geralt and the commander took point and headed for the hill, and ordered the scouts to surround the barrier. 

Now they played the waiting game. The drops of rain had turned into a cold and steady drizzle. The air was cool and damp. Geralt had seen at least one Bruxa enter through the main gate himself from the hill. If anything the rain was a godsend, it would keep the scents of the men down as they did their task of spying. 

As the first hour passed he saw two carts enter the copse of trees with the cave entrance. One was laden with items. One was not. With his keen hearing he could hear the footsteps and hushed voices, but little else as the rain had a dampening effect on his hearing. He watched and waited just before two bells struck the scouts began to race back, giving their reports. 

There had indeed been two carts that had been brought inside the caves, And several vampires had come and gone as well. There had been reports of screaming coming from the caves. Another scout confirmed what Geralt had seen, that a bruxa had arrived via the main gate. All was quiet otherwise. 

Geralt and the small company went back to the fort, and informed the others of what was going on. Geralt found Regis readying Vlad.

“It’s time to go.” Geralt said watching as the vampire hopped up onto the horse and settled his oiled wool cloak around himself. “How are the medics?”

“Ready as they’ll ever be. I have several of them joining us so they can help me treat those that need it most direly along the way.” Regis said turning Vlad and following after Geralt. 

The witcher and the Vampire headed to the gate of the ruined fort and headed to the front of the procession. Outside of the gate the whole of the garrison was assembled. Their black armor slick with rain. There were banner poles, and flags hung from the banner mens horses. Silver swords were at the ready. Geralt and Regis approached the Commander and his Lieutenants Who were gathered in a half circle.

Geralt took his black blood potion. He shuddered as his blood started to pump the acid through his system. He looked to Regis as his body adjusted and Regis wrinkled his nose. Geralt grinned. He knew he smelled bitter because of the black blood.

The silence of the company was put into stark contract when the toll of two bells rang clear despite the rain. Geralt nodded to the commander and the first flag flew. Geralt, the commander, and two Lieutenants Were at the front, four more headed to the rear, and several dispersed themselves in between the men. The march began.

Geralt took them on a path far from the one they had trod the first time. Leading them well up and beyond several hills to approach the path from the north side. They passed several small cottages, and met with eyes that were worried as they shuttered their houses. The going was agonizingly slow, and Geralt felt himself getting more and more antsy as they finally turned the procession back southwards to approach the copse from a shielded angle. The only sound was the horses hooves and the clack of metal from the armor the men wore.

When they were in view of the copse, Geralt, Regis, and the commander sped ahead. Geralt wove through the trees with a practiced ease. And signaled Regis to the other side of the path. He spotted several guards at the entrance of the closed cave. He wound Roach through a particularly thick set of thickets as the alarm went up. When Geralt burst out of the thicket Roach jumped over the stream and Geralt had his sword out in one hand, and the silver chain in his other. There was a bruxa. He felt his mutations key up as the female vampire turned and began to drop her cloak. Regis had stopped Vlad on the opposite side of where Geralt was charging forward and the commander approached from the front. 

The Bruxa went to scream but Geralt was quicker. He launched himself off of Roach at full gallop flinging the silver chain out with the help of aard. The chain met it’s mark and wrapped tightly around the vampire. Geralt’s momentum sent him into a roll. The force as he popped back up and pulled sent the bruxa sprawling. She yelped as her face and shoulder hit the dirt. The two others a katakan male still in human form and a nosferat male turned and screamed. 

Geralt pulled on the chain and wound it quickly around his arm and cast an exploding quen around himself. The smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils as the bruxa writhed on the ground howling. The Nosferat hissed and jumped towards Geralt just as Geralt turned. The quen exploded sending the vampire flying. The commander flew in on his horse as the katakan began to shift. With a single clean stroke from horseback he severed the vampire’s head. 

Geralt shoved the bruxa who had been getting ready to stand down to the ground and with a practiced movement. The commander steered his horse away from the cave entrance and darted out into the woods. Geralt pulled the bruxa’s legs up and tied them to her hands with the silver chain. She opened her mouth to scream and Geralt shoved a non-activated moondust bomb into her open maw. Surprise filled her face then she whimpered tears forming in her eyes. Geralt felt the air shift as the Nosferat found it’s way back and sliced at Geralt his claws grazing off of his armor. Geralt dodged out of the way of the sharp claws and the nosferat Snarled. Geralt swung his sword swiftly at the vampire only to have it turn to mist mid swing. The air was instantly pushed out of him when he felt a set of feet kick him hard against the cave door. 

Regis appeared and the Nosferat looked over to the other vampire.

“HELP ME.” He screamed.

Regis just smiled. The distraction worked and the commander had made it back around for another strike. The human was just to slow, and only nicked the shoulder of the Nosferat. It gave Geralt the distraction he needed to fling himself to his feet and cast a concentrated blast of Igni. The vampire screeched and clawed at himself. Not waiting for the fire to stop Geralt pushed off the cave door and raised his sword over his head. The last thing the nosferat saw was the glowing runes of Aerondight as it passed through the flames. 

Geralt huffed and took a calming breath. The vampire oil had done it’s job with both of the vampires that now lay in the creek bed dead. Regis walked over and calmly took the bodies and put them aside. Geralt grabbed the bruxa who was crying and not struggling. 

“You will behave and sit till we are finished.” Geralt hissed in a whisper pulling the vampires hair so he could look her in the eyes. “If you do so you will go free at the end. Is that clear?”

The vampire nodded, and Geralt threw her to the ground off the path near the two others that were dead. 

The first lieutenants and Geralt’s soldiers appeared through the woods they had dismounted. Behind them another unit approached guarding the carts as the horses snorted and pulled at their reigns. 

Geralt looked to the leader of his group and made a motion with his head. The Lieutenant gave a curt nod and motioned forward with his hand.

Geralt looked to Regis and blinked at him with the bond. The vampire moved forward without noise and placed his hand on the hidden seal. The door began to open. 

“You hear that? Sounds like someone was in a fight?” Voices drifted from deep within the cave. 

“Naw, can’t have been, one of those eggheads upstairs must have blown themselves to bits again.” One of the voices Hawked and spit.

Geralt began slowly sneaking down the cave listening to their conversation.

“What do you think they did with those kids we brought.” One of the voices said. “Van said they were to go to auction…”

“Do you like your head on your shoulders?” The other voice hissed. “Don’t ask bloody stupid questions.”

“They are just kids Sam.” The other voice said clearly not at ease with what he just did. “The pay is good but, kids?”

“Since when have you gained morals.” The other one spat. “Pay is pay, and I like money, and I like my head exactly where it is. If you don’t shut your shit heap you are gonna rot.”

“This place gives me the creeps, and it smells like death.” The worried one said. “What if they don’t stop at the kids?”

“Shut your fucking mouth you twit… wait? Did you hear something?”

Geralt and his unit approached. Before the two men knew what happened he cast Axii and both of the men’s eyes dulled. Geralt nodded to the commander and he motioned for his men to cuff and gag the two humans. As soon as they were apprehended Geralt released the axii. Both of their eyes got wide and he put his finger to his mouth. The commander eyed the two men who had began to shake and spat. He pushed them over to his men to be escorted outside of the caves. 

More crates had been stacked against the walls since he was here yesterday. Regis swiftly went over and found the crate of mandrake and marked his name on it with a nail he found on the ground. Two men stepped up into the merchant’s carts and pulled the Mules around so the carts were at the loading dock. 

Geralt motioned to the crates and the soldiers began to swiftly load them. As soon as the first cart was laden it made it’s journey down the tunnel. The process was started. Geralt motioned for his unit and the secondary unit to approach the docks. The only sound was the occasional Grunt and the knock of wood against wood.

Geralt assembled the men. 

“Remember stay far enough away from each other that you can swing your sword.” Geralt hissed in a whisper. The men nodded. 

Regis approached and looked at Geralt. He had tied a rag around his nose again, not taking chances this time. Geralt’s eyes lit up with mirth and Regis gave him a withering look. 

Geralt gave the motion and began starting up the stairs. Darkness flooded this place, no torches were lit. The human’s behind him were at a disadvantage, but light could be seen coming from the doorway up ahead. Geralt could hear a few missteps and quiet curses as they ascended.

Adrenalin began pumping through his system, his heart began to beat in his ears. His eyes focused and his blood hummed. He saw a shadow pass in front of the door.

“I hear something.” Someone said from the other side. Geralt could smell them. A vampire. “I hear heartbeats.” 

“If those two didn’t wait I will cut their ears off myself.” A bestial voice said. 

“No… this is something different. Something is wrong.” Geralt was momentarily blinded as the door was pulled open with enough force that it shattered. 

He thrust forward blindly and felt his sword sinking into flesh. A blood curdling inhuman scream filled the narrow space behind him causing his men to call out. Geralt blasted forward with an aard and threw the vampire that had been impaled on his sword over one of the tables, knocking over a burner. 

“ATTACK!!!!” Geralt screamed then rushed forward. The melee was on. There were children here, living children who were crying and tied with thick ropes. Between them Vampires of all makes were working at the lab equipment. Most were stunned. The men filed in behind Geralt as he lashed forward. Regis quickly darted to the side and began freeing the children and ushering them around the soldiers.

Geralt stuck at one of the vampires his sword stopping at it’s hip. He pulled the sword out and dodged as another who had turned invisible slashed at him clipping his cheek. The black blood hissed as it exited the small wound. He didn’t have time to fret as another one was on top of him. He heard the solders engage as he rolled forward under a transformed fledder as he leapt at Geralt. As soon as his feet hit the ground Geralt pushed backwards and hit the large vampire in the center of his back sending him careening into the waiting swords of the men behind him.

Geralt lept up onto one of the desks sending glass and paper every which way. He saw a male alp swooning one of the soldiers and went to leap, but he was knocked off his feet hard onto his back by a katakan who had been invisible. The katakans snapped at him and Geralt put his arm up to shield his face. The katakan grabbed his arm and Geralt called out. One of the soldiers sliced at the Katakan with human slowness, and the Katakan pulled back taking Geralt’s armored glove with him. 

Geralt cursed as the katakan swatted the man over the desk and into the Alp who had bitten the soldier he swooned, effectively knocking them both back. Another soldier came up and beheaded the alp with a strong stroke. Geralt saw the katakan’s jaws lock and his plated glove bend and rip. Anger ripped through him.

“That was my good glove you fuck!” Geralt screamed leaping at the katakan and casting Igni. The smell of burning hair and flesh filled the room as the Katakan screamed and flailed it’s arms. Geralt sliced at the creature and managed to sever one of it’s arms causing the creature to stumble and grab the stump. It screamed, and grabbed something. Geralt almost struck till he saw it was a still living boy with a broken and mangled leg who had tears streaming down his face. It had the boy around his mouth. Geralt quickly cast axii on the boy.

“Bite him!” Geralt screamed. The boy did, clamped down till his blunted human teeth drew blood. The katakan screamed and threw the child. Regis had re-appeared and caught the boy and brought him close to his chest before ducking low again and navigating through the throng out of sight. Geralt faced the katakan again as it slashed at a soldier that had approached with it’s injured hand. Geralt leapt his sword raised only to be tackled by a female alp this time. Geralt felt the air rush out of him as he landed hard on the floor his leg caught in one of the desks. The alp was on top of him. He pulled out a moondust bomb and activated it, rolling it just past the alp as he held her with his sword hand. He twisted and turned his back shielding his head as the bomb exploded, the concussion making his ears ring and the silver shrapnel biting into his exposed skin. 

The alp hissed and stumbled only to be stabbed through by one of the soldiers who had come up, his face bleeding to help Geralt. Geralt felt his leg un-pinch and then was hauled up onto his feet. The moon dust bomb had hit the remaining vampires sending them into insane screeching fits as they clawed at their smoking skin. A group of soldiers had surrounded the katakan who was partially invisible, he was to strong for the men even down to one arm. Geralt watched as he ran to confront the creature and saw it sink it’s fangs into the face of a soldier that had gotten to close. Geralt took his chance and screamed twisting his body around mid air as he leapt. The katakan dropped the soldier just in time to watch Geralt’s blade pierce through it’s mouth, a great fount of blood rushing out as the creature vomited and stumbled sending a great wash of blood over Geralt. Geralt pulled his sword bringing the edge out through the creatures cheek. The Katakan fell on one knee. Several of the soldiers moved at one stabbing the creature through. It fell still.

Geralt looked around as the men finished off the final two vampires. 

“Clear the wounded!” Geralt spat looking around for Regis. Regis was kneeled down coaxing a young girl with a stuffed doll and a large wound on her neck out from under a desk. He felt the unmistakable pull of the vampire using a glamor on the child and she climbed up into his arms, and he took off handing the child to a soldier at the door who in turn dashed out the door. Geralt caught his breath for a moment when he heard crying in one of the rooms used for torture and draining.

Without a second thought he burst through the door. A boy about eleven was hung by his ankles blood running from two small incisions on his neck down into a bucket. He was bleeding quickly and hadn’t been there long. 

“Regis!” Geralt felt panic slip through the bond and the vampire dashed over. Both of them entered the room and Geralt cut at the boy’s bonds.

“Check the other doors!” Geralt barked as one of the soldiers looked in. He heard a door open and one of the men vomit. 

“Geralt, hold him, he isn’t going to live if I don’t seal those wounds.” Regis said as the boy sobbed and heaved, blood flowing out of him at an alarming rate. Regis hocked and spit in his gloved hand. 

“What the fuck…” Geralt said holding the boy as the boy screamed. 

Regis smeared his spit in his hands and placed both of them on either side of the boy’s neck. The boy’s eyes blew wide and his struggles began to ease. Regis stood there for a few seconds before the boy’s eyes closed and his breathing became even.

“Shit Regis what did you do?” Geralt hissed looking at the boy’s neck as Regis pulled away and wiped the blood on his trousers. 

“Our saliva has a coagulant and a healing agent. Specifically made in the back of our throats.” Regis pulled out a bandage and began wrapping it around the boy’s bloodied neck. “It’s how we seal wounds on victims we don’t want to die. Unfortunately it was either lick him, which I am not of a mind to do, or spit on him. I choose the later for obvious reasons.”

Geralt lifted the limp boy and took him out of the room and handed him to a soldier. He checked one of the other rooms where a girl was strung up dead and a soldier was leaned up against the wall wide eyed with vomit on his front. Regis flitted out of the room and began checking on the soldiers that were wounded. He bandaged who he could. Three of them had lost their lives. They were set against the wall their faces covered with Rags while the wounded were attended to.

“Clear the wounded! Bring up replacements. Now!” Geralt barked as the men reformed and others began shuffling those that had not died away.

The Commander came up. He had a neat slash across his cheek running to his lip. Otherwise he looked none the worse for wear. Geralt clapped the man on the shoulder. 

“You get to take the body hallway, Regis and I will head upstairs.” Geralt said watching as a group of soldiers lead the one that was shell shocked out of the room with the strung up girl. The first room was thankfully empty. There were still bodies of children encased in ice, and a few bodies that were not on the tables. The Soldiers were trying to ignore them but Geralt saw the sad looks on the stern faces. 

“What should I expect?” The commander said looking at his men who had reformed and were now waiting at the ready. 

“Bodies, just guard them. If any vampires come, attack them.” Geralt said looking to the hallway that lead to the body dump outside. “Guard the door at all costs. I don’t need one sneaking through and coming at my back.”

Geralt rubbed at his exposed hand. It was bruised and sore. Two of his fingers felt stiff, it was going to make casting painful. He winced. Regis approached and looked at Geralt his mouth drawn into a grim line, blood dripping from his front from one of the soldiers no doubt. 

“You good?” Geralt asked trying not to relay to much concern with his look. 

“Perfectly, this is nothing.” Regis said brushing at his front with his gloved hand.

Geralt Signaled with his hand and everything got quiet again. There was commotion upstairs. 

“Commander, take your half and go.” Geralt said motioning towards the door that lead outside.

“Take care of yourself .” The Commander said turning. “Vara ymladda, nordling.”

Geralt winced and turned towards the door to the stairs. 

“To me!” Geralt said as Regis fell back behind him. Geralt put his hand on the door handle and took a few deep breaths feeling his adrenalin kick back up. He could feel the shift as his eyes began to glow and his teeth began to itch.

Cursing he threw open the door and leapt up the stairs three at a time. He burst through the door at the top and the children began to scream. Children were huddled together clinging onto each other as the matrons shielded them. Several vampires had taken up positions around the room. Geralt charged forward and felt an arrow wiz by his head, and another. The vampire’s began to screech and scream. They were attempting to use the children as shields. 

Geralt cursed and adjusted his strategy. He grabbed his crossbow and loaded it, following the soldiers example. Regis ducked in once again below the fire, and began to coax the children to the stairs. Geralt fired several shots hitting the vampires and causing them to abandon the idea of using the children in favor of movement. Regis had ducked down on one knee and was taking the hand of a girl to get her to come with him when Geralt saw the shimmer of a Bruxa. 

“REGIS LOOK OUT.” He tried to turn himself but he felt so slow. The Bruxa stuck out with invisible hands and bowled Regis over. Geralt had his hands on the chain at his hip and released it. Screaming he leapt forward but was too slow. The bruxa straddled Regis’s hips and slashed at his stomach. Regis’s eyes got wide as claws ripped through his middle opening him his innards spilling out. Geralt’s vision went red when the bond shuddered to life with pain.

He watched in slow motion as Regis coughed, blood welling up through his mouth and staining the rag in front of his nose. 

The scream that ripped through Geralt was inhuman. He felt his bones strain themselves as he pushed forward through air that felt thicker then water. The Bruxa turned her eyes going wide. She crouched and leapt at Geralt her speed outmatching his by leaps and bounds. Geralt drew his sword forward and sliced her across the hip. Not before she had sliced at his exposed inner thigh. Geralt felt his world shatter as he tucked into a roll. Time seemed to slow. He saw the soldiers rushing forward and confronting the vampires with aplomb. None were as strong as this bruxa. 

Geralt twisted around when he felt the air shuddering behind him. The bruxa lunged for his neck. He let his knees go limp and she missed her mark he grabbed her around the neck with his arm, and grabbed the chain free. Seering pain followed by a throb of insane pleasure ripped it’s way through his system as her teeth made contact with his exposed wrist. He wrenched it away feeling the skin split as he raked it across her teeth. She didn’t swallow. As the black blood touched her tongue and made her gag. It was all he needed.

He quickly wrapped the chain around her neck and wrenched her to the ground. He landed hard on her back with his knee feeling as the spine severed. Her lower half went limp and she screamed with all her hatred. Several of the soldiers around him grabbed at their ears, and one doubled over and threw up. Geralt wasn’t sure how he was still upright, but he grabbed the Bruxa’s arms and twisted them behind her back till he felt them both pop out of place. She sobbed. Geralt tied her tight with the silver chain.

He threw her up against the wall then instantly went to find Regis. Regis for his part had dragged himself across the room to the wall were he was currently cradling his innards his eyes closed in pain and concentration.

“Regis!?” Geralt felt his world toppling over as he stumbled to the vampire. 

Regis’s eyes flew open and he scowled. 

“Finish the damned Fight Geralt.” He hissed blood pouring out of his mouth. “Use your head, or you will loose it.” 

Geralt felt Regis sending calm over the bond and Geralt snapped out of his Haze. Regis had healed from worse. Geralt turned and looked at the scene before him. The soldiers had felled several of the vampires, and had several more on the defensive. But they had a new problem.

The children were kicking at the soldiers as they fought, causing harm, and hobbling the soldiers as they attempted to defend themselves from the remaining vampires. 

“Leave them alone! Their our friends!” Geralt listened as he approached a group fighting an alp. “Don’t hurt her! She loves me!”

Geralt leapt forward with an Aard, pushing the soldiers and the children away from the snapping Alp. He felt a burning across his hip as a nosferat who had been hiding ripped through his armor. He landed awkwardly then ducked as both the Alp and the Nosferat leapt at him. There was a sickening wet thud and a screech. Geralt spun himself around and let his sword follow his momentum. He bisected them both. Then felt a hard hit on his shoulder. He lost grip on his sword as he fell forward. 

He spun around just in time to see one of the biggest vampiric creatures he had ever had the chance to witness. He felt a stabbing pain in his hip as the large vampire bored into his eyes. He was face to face with a mula. 

“I smell him on you human.” Geralt screamed as he felt the creature dig further into his injured hip. “The traitor, the alchemist. How does it feel knowing he will watch you die.” 

Geralt could hear Regis scream his name as the Mula grabbed his head, wrenched it to the side and bit. Geralt bucked his hips up in an instinctual motion as poison ripped through his system. Pain blurred into pleasure as he felt his life force draining. The flip was all he needed to raise his injured hand. 

“Fuck… you…..” Geralt said and Cast Igni straight at the creatures groin. The blast was so hot and so close to Geralt that he felt his armor heat and burn his skin. The Mula screamed and flailed backwards grabbing at himself. Geralt found his sword as one of the soldiers lashed out and cut the tendon on the back of the creature’s leg. Geralt stumbled up as the Mula screamed. 

“YOU WILL DIE GERALT, YOU AND THAT TRAITOR.” He Screamed the black blood doing it’s job. The creature clawed at his midsection. 

Geralt smiled, the poison creating euphoria in his mind. He unattached a moon dust bomb and grabbed his dagger from his belt. He stabbed the dagger through the creatures chest and yanked downwards. He felt ribs give way at the pull. He activated the bomb, and shoved it into the space his dagger had created. Then he turned and jumped. The concussion from the blast rocketed him against the wall and covered his backside in gore and blood. 

The battle was over. The children were screaming. Geralt leaned up against the wall trying to fight against the euphoria that was racing through his system as he grabbed a Kiss potion. He popped the cork and shot it down. His blood began to slow and clot. He reached up to his neck that had been ripped open once again. He cursed. 

“That was quite a fight.” Regis stood before him. The front of his shirt and tunic had been sliced open and blood was everywhere. But Geralt could see the wound was shallow and quickly healing. He laughed, the movement jarring his neck and hip.

“Regis, grab my swallow.” Geralt said the vampire in front of him causing him to wince as throbbing pleasure over road the pain. 

“He got you good didn’t he.” Regis said inspecting the wound and wincing. 

“What will the poison do to me.” Geralt said as his groin tightened. 

“You should purge it from your system as soon as possible, but judging from your wounds that wont be for quite some time.” Regis said popping the Swallow off of Geralt’s belt. Geralt hissed and winced as Regis grabbed his jaw and tilted his chin up. The bottle hit is lips and the bitter liquid stacked with the rest in his system. 

“Where is he?!” The commander came in from the outside door.

“He is here, injured but nothing a few minutes of rest wont fix.” Regis said as the commander approached. Geralt grunted and forced himself upright and sheathed his sword, cursing as he remembered it was still dirty.

“This is horrible, more horrible then I had imagined.” The commander said pacing. “We must burn the bodies.”

“We will.” Geralt grunted adjusting himself so he wasn’t pinching his goods up against the armored cup in his trousers. 

“Get the men to clear out the children, bring the matrons before me.” Geralt said hesitantly putting weight on his injured leg. When it didn’t protest he took a few experimental steps. 

The commander began to bark orders and soldiers filed in with crates and began to swiftly box everything in sight. The Matrons were brought before Geralt. They were cursing him, spitting at him. 

“Orianna will not stand for this, she will kill you.” “Fringilla will burn you to a crisp.” “Janina will twist you but with a word!”

Geralt cast Axii on all three and they instantly quieted. 

“Go home, to your families.” Geralt sighed looking at the woman who’s eyes turned glassy. “Go quickly.”

The women turned and walked towards the front door and exited.

“Fringilla Vigo?” The Commander said. “They said Fringilla…”

“Yes, and that is to remain between us.” Geralt hissed as his hip throbbed. “We are still investigating this to it’s full extent.”

“Come Geralt let’s get some air.” Regis said pulling at Geralt. “I trust you can handle the rest of cleanup, remember what Geralt said. Everything out. I trust that the children have begun being evacuated?”

“Yes, they are, let me go make sure of progress.” The commander said his eyes sharpening as he turned. “We will pack up and be out of here in short order.”

“Find us when you are ready, fresh air is in order.” Regis said leading Geralt outside by his shoulder. 

Geralt felt himself being lead the point where Regis had him held throbbed in that weird mix of pain and pleasure that had been dividing his attention since he got bit by the bruxa on the wrist. It was still raining, and the cool rain lit up Geralt’s skin causing him to moan. Regis’s grip tightened. Geralt felt himself tossed against the wall and felt lips crashing against his. 

He keened into the touch as Regis grabbed his face his thumbs stroking his temples. 

“There is a quick fix to the poison, it will negate most of the effects.” Regis said pulling away and nuzzling at Geralt’s cheeks with his nose. Geralt felt his eyes rolling as his hips trust forward. 

“Forgive me for being so forward but we have to be quick.” Regis hissed in Geralt’s ear. 

“What are you doin….ah… hah.. ahhhhh.” Geralt felt his mind cease to function when Regis kneeled down and quickly untied Geralt’s pants, and undid the armored cup that surrounded him. Geralt’s hands flailed and gripped into his baldric.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Geralt yelled which turned into a long drawn out call of lust. Regis’s steadied Geralt’s hips with one strong hand while the other pumped his shaft with purpose.

“Hopefully not poisoning myself as you still have black blood in your system.” Regis said wincing for a moment before he opened his mouth. Geralt felt his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline in realization as Regis’s cool wet mouth enveloped his shaft. 

Geralt felt the vampire’s tongue working swiftly and his mind was to far gone to stifle the wanton cries as the euphoria began to crest. His hand found the vampire’s head as he guided him into a quick rhythm. Geralt didn’t have the wherewithal to understand how his cock wasn’t being torn to shreds by Regis’s teeth as the pressure built. The tongue pulsing and putting pressure on that spot that was so tantalizing and felt so different from anything Geralt had ever felt that the build was quick. 

Regis pulled himself off of Geralt’s cock as Geralt felt himself tense. The vampire stroked him swiftly and Geralt came with a garbled yell that sounded more like pain. Regis had dodged out of the way as the ropy beads made their way out of him. Geralt grunted and doubled over. Regis had been right. The cum sizzled in the wet grass. Geralt felt the euphoria slip away and the pain begin to catch up to him. 

Regis spit and sputtered and reached for his waterskin. He let Geralt go and Geralt sunk boneless into the wet grass. The vampire quickly swished his mouth out and spit and sputtered. Geralt moved stiffly and tucked himself away and started to replace his amour.

“I could have just jerked it you know.” He said as Regis rinsed his mouth again.

“Where would the fun have been in that?” Regis said making a face as he attempted to get the taste out of his mouth. He finally gave up and grabbed a mint sprig from his apothecary’s satchel and started to chew it. 

He flopped next to Geralt against the building as Geralt caught his breath.

“Black blood blow jobs, are the newest thing in a long line of stupidity I have put myself through, for no other good reason other then insatiable curiosity.” Regis groused wincing as he chewed the mint. 

Geralt laughed then groaned pain ripping through his system. He was nearly at his limit. The swallow was working swiftly, but not swiftly enough. Geralt shifted himself up off the wall and winced as he adjusted himself so he was on his knees.

“Regis, give me a few minutes. I need to speed this up.” Geralt said wincing. 

“Take all the time you need Geralt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH HOHO
> 
> So much happens in this chapter!
> 
> The political end of things is slowly starting to move, hehehehehe
> 
> The children are rescued!!! YAY!!!!
> 
> Regis has just as much of a thing for Danger as Geralt does but manifests in stupid ways (Black blood blow job XD)
> 
> AH BUT IT ISN'T OVER
> 
> THE BEST IS YET TO COME!!!!
> 
> AHHAHHHAHHAHHAH


	25. Consummation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ********
> 
> Geralt and Regis confront the mage behind the horrible treatment of the children at the orphanage
> 
> *********
> 
> "“Kill him Geralt. That vampire that stands beside you.” The mage ground out her eyes fearful and wide as Regis’ turned black. “He is no better, he will kill you… he will kill us all.”
> 
> Geralt stood up dropping the knife and ran his hand along Regis’ face. Regis leaned into the touch automatically growling low in his throat. 
> 
> “He is mine, and I am his.” Geralt purred grabbing Regis’ lower back and pulling their hips flush. “Why would I kill the one whom I owe my life to?” 
> 
> Geralt leaned forward and kissed Regis.
> 
> He would remember this moment as the catalyst that started everything."
> 
> ********

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!
> 
>  
> 
> **Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!**
> 
>  
> 
> Ok big notes this chapter
> 
> First and foremost  
> Rape/non-con Elements present by Geralt  
> Torture  
> De-nailing  
> Impaling  
> Biting  
> Mentions of all the stuff in previous chapters, child rape, torture ect  
> Medical squickyness as Geralt has something pulled out of him (Dr pimple popper much?)  
> SEX HOLY SHIT FINALLY SEX  
> BLOOD  
> Bonding

Geralt felt the world slip away as he fell into meditation. He felt himself come into more control over his body, and adjusted his mutations so that his healing sped up. He focused on his neck and his thigh so the wound’s that were the worst would heal the quickest. He felt his skin begin to knit and the pain begin to ebb away. Almost unconsciously he felt Regis beside him and Dettlaff somewhere in the southeast. Both of their minds content. Dettlaff had slept through the fight somehow.

His relief was interrupted when he heard an explosion and a wash of green light overtook the area. He snapped his eyes open and saw Regis standing in the middle of the yard looking towards Dillingen. A bright green magical flare hovered over the city. Geralt winced and pulled himself up. 

“Seems as though we need to move swiftly.” Regis said turning towards Geralt. 

The commander walked out in the rain, away from the building.

“Everything is packed.” He said. “We heard the first flare. We need to be away.”

Geralt grunted and nodded, turning towards the commander.

The commander balked. 

“What is wrong with your face?” He said eyeing Geralt.

Geralt looked momentarily confused and rubbed his hand over his cheek before realizing what he meant. 

“It’s the mutations.” Geralt said grunting. “I am pretty much at my limit for the amount of potions I can take, it makes me look haggard, but I feel loads better than I did a few minutes ago.”

The commander grunted and turned back inside. Geralt followed and Regis was soon behind him. Geralt was stunned when he walked in, the last of the soldiers carrying heavy crates down to the labs. It was empty, save for the vampires’ bodies and the bruxa who was panting and straining against the silver chain as it burned her. Geralt spit at her and she cursed. 

“Follow me, we have trailed oil from the pit of bodies to the lab. You should be able to light them up the second you are finished with little issue.” The commander said heading down the stairs. 

Soldiers lingered in the lab gathering up the last of what was needed. The desks had been pushed against the walls, and the bodies and pieces of the vampires had been coated in oil and lay stacked in a pile off to the side. The dead humans had been removed. The soldiers nodded at Geralt as he inspected their work. Nothing, not even a bucket was left.

“Come on, we are done here.” The commander said to his men. “We will be disembarking.” 

Geralt grabbed the bottle of white honey on his belt and popped the cork.

“What are you doing?” Regis asked eyeing Geralt.

“The threat of vampires has passed.” Geralt tossed the sweet tasting potion back, and felt it warm his insides. “I need to clear myself of toxins, if something happens and I need to take more potions I don’t need to keel over and die from my blood toxicity.”

Regis grunted but said nothing. 

One of the soldiers came over to Regis and Geralt. 

“I thought for sure you were dead Master Regis.” He said clapping his hand on the vampire’s shoulder. Geralt felt himself heat up at the show of familiarity. He growled without meaning to and Regis quickly elbowed him. 

“Ah yes, I am quite alright.” Regis said smiling. “A few bruises and a cut or two, but nothing that can’t be fixed.”

Geralt eyed the soldier warily as he smiled, obliviously. 

“I swear to Melitele that I saw you doubled over with your guts on the floor.” The soldier said laughing. “Funny isn’t it?”

Regis chuckled and Geralt felt his vision sharpening. He could smell the battle on the man, and he could smell _him_. The soldier’s blood was still up from battle and his pheromones suggested that there was more than battle on his brain. Geralt stared pointedly at the man watching his neck and the fast pulsing artery just under the surface. His mouth began to water. 

“Yes Laird, funny thing vampires, they can cast all sorts of spells to make you see things that are not there.” Regis said casually and Geralt felt his ire increase. “Forgive me, Laird, this is Geralt. Geralt, I saved Laird’s mother from consumption back when he was youner. I haven’t seen the lad in ten years.”

“Charmed.” Geralt ground out. Regis fired a look at him. Laird looked sheepish, like he had been caught. His scent changed to fear. Geralt licked his lips. 

“I… well… uh… I have to go, we have to go.” The soldier said nervously, looking at Geralt. “Maybe we can catch up some time? Mother would love to see you again.” 

“I am not sure I would be able to, but if I can I will stop by her house.” Regis said nudging Geralt. Geralt couldn’t draw his gaze away from the man’s neck as hunger tightened in his belly.

“Okay yeah… that’s great. See you around.” The soldier quickly shuffled off into the hallway. 

“You and I need to speak when everyone is clear.” Regis hissed pointedly. Geralt felt himself snap out of it. He blinked a couple of times and looked at Regis, who wore an angry and concerned expression.

“I… ok.” Geralt said shaking his head and rubbing at his temple. “I feel strange.”

“You are acting strange.” Regis snapped. “Come, we have one last thing to do, then I will see to your wounds.”

Geralt walked behind Regis, following him down the tunnel which was now lit brightly. As soon as they got to the caves commanding voices filled the space as the last of the carts were loaded up. Regis and Geralt watched and the commander came to join them as the soldiers began to march out. The carts turned and followed. They got just out of view and the noise started to die down, when the commander spoke.

“I know not what you plan on doing to the woman when she gets here.” The commander said, his voice harsh and unshielded. “But do not be merciful. The things I have seen here today, the children, the bodies, the death. All of it was under her watch. She deserves to linger.”

Geralt felt his breath hitch and his mouth water. He felt confused at the reaction. He looked to Regis who had noticed but said nothing.

“I will make sure she has paid for her crimes, and then some.” Geralt spat and hopped off the ledge of the loading dock. Regis and the commander followed going down the stairs. 

Geralt was brooding. He knew it. All he felt right now was anger. And while a tiny part of his mind was telling him it was a perfectly reasonable feeling, the rest of him was confused. Normally at this point in an operation where he fought, and had one final thing left to do, he felt tired. But not right now. His mutations were still in overdrive even as the white honey neutralized the poisons. His body felt like it was buzzing leftovers from Regis’ quick, yet oddly clinical blowjob. And his body was telling him he was thirsty. 

Geralt grinned. At least that one he could fix. He pulled his waterskin from his back, only to discover it had been pierced through. Again that irrational anger lanced through his mind. He felt a nudge on his shoulder and Regis offered his. Geralt felt concern coming through the bond.

“Oh man, thanks.” Geralt said his eyes lightning up. 

“You are quite welcome, you need but ask.” Regis said his smile guarded.

Geralt took a pull from the waterskin. It tasted divine. He pulled till there was nothing left, then stopped, went over to the spring and filled it again kneeling down… drinking. He felt his stomach getting full of water but somehow he was still thirsty. He knew better though, his body would catch up to him eventually. Geralt stood up and jogged back over to Regis and the commander. Regis eyed him as Geralt handed the waterskin back. Geralt moved to crack his neck and winced. 

When they stepped outside the rain had turned from a drizzle to a downpour. Geralt watched as the last of the caravan made its way through the trees and up along the hidden path. 

“Good luck gentlemen. It’s been a pleasure.” The commander said reaching out his hand. Geralt shook it firmly. 

“Like wise. Your men did beautifully.” Geralt said letting go of the man and clasping his hand on the commanders pauldron. “The only regret is the loss of life.”

“An unfortunate necessity to rescue those who are most vulnerable.” The commander said, reaching out his hand for Regis. “You and Regis have given us more hope than you can imagine. Never again will someone speak of the witcher’s caste with ill breath when under my command.”

“I will put in a good word for you to the Emperor.” Geralt smiled. “He needs more good men under his command. Wise men.”

The commander blushed as Regis grasped his hand.

“You flatter me.”

“He never flatters without just cause, it’s just not his way.” Regis smiled hiding his teeth. “I do hope we run into each other again under better circumstances, I feel as though I was robbed of an opportunity to talk to a fascinating person.”

“I feel much the same barber surgeon. Much the same.”

With a quick wave the man turned around and joined his soldiers. Geralt watched and turned as soon as he was out of eyesight. 

“So we need to talk?” Geralt felt the anger creep back up again. He quickly went over to a tree and began relieving himself against the bark. The white honey had done it’s job, and he felt better as the poisons leaked away from him. 

Regis had gone over and picked the bruxa up, lifting her as if she weighted nothing. 

“Yes we do,” He said as he hauled the bruxa into the cave. “but I prefer to do it out of the rain, and not while you’re pissing.”

Geralt grunted and watched as the urine cleared. As was typical with blackblood it had started out a sickly looking black, but as he finished it turned clear, and normal. Geralt made sure to keep track of it because one of the easiest things to ruin as a witcher were the filtering organs. The liver and the kidneys. If he had any blood in his urine he would have had to stop fighting and hold off till his organs recovered, which was always a long process. He finished up and tucked himself back into his pants. the pain of hunger joined the thirst.

“Fine then, I’m done.” Geralt grunted wandering over to the cave. 

Regis walked over and closed the gate, the mechanism grinding loudly in the silence of the rain. 

“As much as I am sure it would tickle her, I am not speaking in front of this filth.” Regis said holding the bruxa up by the chain examining her. She was muddy, and bruised, and the silver chain had burned deep furrows in her skin. Geralt nodded feeling fire in the pit of his stomach.

“I wish we didn’t have to let her go.” Geralt hissed walking beside Regis as they made their way once again through the cave. “I wish I could pull the pin on that grenade and watch as the silver rips her pretty face apart. I am not accustomed to letting monsters go, especially when they prove themselves as such.”

“There are other ways to creatively vent your frustrations Geralt.” Regis said. “Alas I can not touch her otherwise I would join in on the merriment. It’s so rare for me to be able to let go these days, the fact that she is kin infuriates me to no end.”

Geralt smiled his horrible smile down at the bruxa who looked up at him with wide eyes. Let her fear him, let her piss herself. Let her spread the word. That is what he needed of her. That and little else.

“However, the one upstairs is a completely different matter.” Regis grinned his fangs catching the torchlight. “She gutted me, her punishment is fair game.”

Geralt looked to Regis and felt himself stir. He could feel the giddiness at the prospect rolling off the vampire. What would have at one time been disconcerting instead filled him with a strange sort of glee. Ciri had told him of the power Regis had when he was fully embracing his vampiric nature. Ciri was the one person who saw Regis as truly himself when they had attacked Stygga. She saw the vampire, saw him and though afraid at first, had confessed many years later to being fascinated by his casual demeanor as he ripped the throats out of her would be captors. The visual it conjured, Regis sitting casually on a table crossing his legs with a soldier draped across his lap as he drank deeply, made Geralt shudder. 

What would have been a horrifying prospect not a year ago, had turned into a deep unspoken lust in Geralt’s mind. Geralt shuttered it away quickly, but if Regis caught his scent change he paid it no mind as they approached the stairs to the lab.

When they got there, Regis bolted straight for the stairs to the orphanage. Geralt followed after. Regis then took both bruxae and placed them in the feeding room, out of sight for the moment. Geralt sat at one of the tables in the main room and took out a rag. He doused it in alcohol and began cleaning his wrist, which had begun throbbing painfully. Something felt off about it. Something he couldn't pinpoint within the flesh that was trying to heal.

Regis came back in, his hands shaking, and flopped unceremoniously next to Geralt, setting his bag on the table. Geralt was holding the alcohol covered rag to his wrist. With purpose Regis removed the rag he had tied around his nose and breathed in. Geralt watched as his nose flared and his eyes closed. 

"Gonna be ill again?" Geralt asked as the vampire shuddered and then drew in a second breath in that way Geralt was familiar with, pulling air across the organ in his nose that allowed him to translate the various chemical signal changes around him. 

"Hardly." Regis breathed a steadying breath. "Your scent is grounding me now that that accursed black blood is out of your system."

Geralt felt his ears heat and went back to dabbing at his wrist. Regis took out his moonshine bottle and took a large swallow smacking his lips. Geralt couldn't help the small grin that passed his face. 

"Snifter?" Regis said handing the bottle to Geralt. Geralt looked at it, shrugged and took a shot, letting the alcohol burn down his throat and warm him. 

"So you wanted to talk?" Geralt said as Regis fished out bandages from his bag as well as items for a poultice. Geralt winced. He knew where that was going.

"First let me see to your injuries." Regis said looking pointedly at Geralt's neck. Geralt winced. Yep he knew it.

"Fine." Geralt sighed and pulled off his swords taking off his chest armor so Regis could have access. “Though now I know you’re avoiding speaking to me about whatever you were angry about. We aren’t going to have much time before she arrives. So if this is something that needs to be hashed out now, we may as well do it.”

"You are lucky, you know." Regis started pointedly ignoring Geralt’s rant as he put alcohol on a rag and began dabbing at the congealed blood on Geralt’s neck. "Had the mula bit the other side where the bruxa had he likely could have caused you severe damage. The surface always looks healed before the tissue underneath."

Geralt grunted and hissed as Regis’ cool fingers and the burning rag wiped the blood off his neck. 

"He almost did you severe damage anyhow." Regis said humming as he probed the wound. "He was millimeters away from your thyroid."

Geralt groaned.

"If Yen would have had to rebuild that, I think she would have killed me." Geralt groused. He felt a painful pressure and Regis grunted. Sudden surprise drew Regis away from his neck, and the soft sound of something hitting the floor and rolling made Geralt jump. 

"What on earth?" Geralt grabbed his neck then looked down at where Regis was bent over and scooped something up off the floor. 

"What is it?" Geralt felt suddenly woozy. The idea that something has been stuck in his neck made him feel uneasy.

Regis set the small gore covered ball on the table then scrubbed it with the rag. His eyes got wide and he began to pale. 

"This... this is not the first time I have seen this." Regis said picking up the small bead in his claws. He turned it over and Geralt could see a rune. 

"What is that? Geralt said still holding the rag to his neck.

"It's a rune. Specifically a sealing rune. It's made out of the metal that came from our home world. The same metal as that found Tesham Mutna." Regis said spinning the bead and biting at his lip.

Geralt found himself looking at the vampire in curiosity. 

"But?"

" This is not the first time I have seen this rune. The first time I saw it was when I cleaned out that bruxa wound on your neck, back at your estate.” Regis looked to Geralt his brows drawn.

“My amulet isn’t vibrating, so there is no magic that can affect me.” Geralt said looking at the rune. “Why would they try to put that shit into me? What’s the purpose?”

Regis bit his lip, setting the rune down and shooing Geralt’s hand away from his neck. Geralt reached out for the bond. Regis was clearly uncomfortable, and was radiating discomfort loudly through the bond.

“The thing is Geralt, they didn’t.” Regis said simply, causing Geralt to frown and wince as Regis started wrapping Geralt’s neck with gauze and linen bandages. “Both this bead and the one from your neck were encapsulated and surrounded by calcified tissue. Something that does not happen over night, it can sometimes take years. Even with witcher standards applied, it would still take months to years to encapsulate as well as it had. Before you start in with your questioning, let me ask you something, something that is likely to make you uncomfortable. What exactly were the biological components of the trial of the grasses?”

Geralt felt himself stiffen before he could school his reaction. He looked to Regis then looked away biting his lip and weighing what he wanted to do.

“I know it’s a difficult subject, but it is one we must broach.” Regis said trying to sooth him.

“Fork tail spinal fluid, manticore poison glands, bryonia, ribleaf, mandrake, and an albino bruxa tongue.” Geralt felt Regis’ hands shake against his neck as he tied off the bandage.

“So there were vampire Gene’s in there after all.” Regis siad softly. 

“I know where you are going with this.” Geralt said, stretching his neck as he started to dab at Geralt’s wrist. “The amount of bruxa tongue we use can be stretched for the use of nearly fifty boys, the amount each of us received was negligible, and even then, what we receive isn’t blood, it’s the tissue.”

Geralt felt Regis’ hand begin to shake again as he examined Geralt’s bloodied wrist. 

“Geralt… look.” Regis voice was a soft hiss as he pulled Geralt’s wrist upwards. Geralt looked down into the bloody wound. Regis’ claw pierced the thin tissue that had formed over top of the raw wound, and Geralt hissed. The claw pushed against something that shifted and moved separately from the rest of the tissue.

“Hold on, let me get something.” Regis said as Geralt began poking at the area himself. That’s what had been bothering him. There was an itch coming from whatever that was. Regis grabbed his wrist again and came at it with a set of tweezers. The first two times he missed, when he grabbed ahold of it the third time and pulled, Geralt felt his stomach constrict. His wrist began to bleed freely again as Regis pulled the tissue up and out and set the small ball of flesh down on a rag. Geralt grabbed some gauze and put pressure on the wound but was fascinated as Regis used tweezers and claws to pull apart the tissue. Sure enough out popped a ball, identical to the first. 

Geralt moaned as a sudden feeling of hunger and thirst washed over him in an unexpected wave. He shook his head to clear the feeling but it was not going away. He looked at Regis, who looked back at him with wide eyes.

“Huh.” Regis said quickly wrapping the beads and stashing them in his bags.

“That’s all you have to say?” Geralt asked incredulously. 

“What would you like me to say Geralt?” Regis snapped his eyes pleading. “I know less about what this means than you. You have been acting out of sorts for a while now. I am going to place another set of ground rules. You need to trust me. Trust me when I say I have no idea what is going on, or what is happening. You also need to trust my judgment in regards to the people I interact with. I can feel you keying up into anger, but you need to calm yourself to think this through rationally. That human boy Laird, I could smell what he was after, just as I could smell it when he was young, just like I could smell it on you, and neither of you likely had any idea what those strange feelings meant. I. Am. Not. Interested. In. Anyone. Else. Just you Geralt. Just you.”

Regis emphasized the words by squeezing Geralt’s hand. 

“You can’t get jealous over every interaction I have with people that have ulterior motives.” Regis was watching as the witcher fought with himself.

“I apologize, it wasn’t my intent to get jealous.” Geralt sighed, biting his lip and feeling oddly ashamed.

“You were looking at him like a piece of meat Geralt. That wasn’t just jealousy.” Regis huffed, beginning to bandage Geralt’s wrist. 

Geralt bit his lip and winced. He drew blood. Regis’ nose flared and he looked sharply up to Geralt.

“Fuck!” Geralt spat more annoyed at himself than anything as he tongued at the new wound in his mouth. “Regis, I don’t know what’s going on with me anymore. I don’t know what to do. I am lost. I don’t want to hurt you, I know what you have been through in detail. I don’t know where I am supposed to stop, and feel like I should know it without asking, but the knowledge just doesn’t exist. I have been feeling lately like someone is pulling me on a leash, and the only way to get the noose off my neck is to do the unexpected.”

Geralt fought with the next words before settling in and spitting them out.

“The nightmares, I have had them for so long, but they changed, started getting clearer, more detailed.” Geralt said rubbing his temple with his free hand. “Now my mutations are beginning to get out of control, and Idon’t know what I can do to stop it. There are these new things, new instincts. Things that I am trying to get a handle on and side step, but their pull against me is too much sometimes, so I just give in to get rid of the itch.”

“How do you mean?” Regis said finishing up with Geralt’s wrist and letting him free. Geralt shuddered.

“Like that.” Geralt said feeling the burn of lust in his throat. “It started simply small, when we were traveling with the hansa and I felt overwhelmed and trapped. I saw you learnt from, and gods I wanted you. But I felt I had to deny myself, that there was no room lust. Being around you activated something inside of me, something deep. Something hidden. Something raw. Something that was so alien and was so wholly me, that I didn’t even know where to look to start understanding it. It awakened a whole host of instincts that I never knew I had.”

Regis was staring at him his eyes wide and his pupils blown.

The sound of explosions ripped through the room. Geralt quickly pulled his armor back on and sealed it up.

“Fuck.” Geralt said launching himself off the bench and looking outside the front door. The red flares went up. Time was drawing short.

“Shall we continue this another time?” Regis’ disappointment was audible.

“No, not this time.” Geralt growled low, turning and grabbing Regis as he walked back in the door. He slammed the vampire against the wall catching Regis wholly off guard. Geralt kissed him hard and ground up against him. He pulled away only to dive into Regis’ neck, nibbling at the tendons as they arched, allowing him more access. Submission. It raced through Geralt like hot lead.

“I didn’t have a name for anything I felt, I didn’t understand a single thing about what was happening to me, and I was lost for so, so long.” Geralt said freeing Regis from his trousers. “I felt everything so much more after I met you. So much so, that even when I got back to the witcher’s keep Vesemir voiced his concerns. He didn’t know what to do and thought it was a product of my memory loss and the loss of my amulet. I felt alone, so utterly alone.” 

He spit down into his hand and pulled it roughly along Regis’ length. The sound he drew out of the vampire was raw and animalistic Regis was growling, a low noise, not made by human vocal chords. It didn’t stop even when Regis drew breath.

“Then all those years later when I saw you again, when Dettlaff had speared you through, I knew.” Geralt bit along Regis’ neck again. “The crowning moment, the one that made everything start to fit, one that I have not had care to mull over till these recent weeks was the resonance potion. Once inside Dettlaff’s mind I found a mirror. The feelings he felt, they mirrored my own. The intensity, enough to burn, enough to freeze. So overwhelming that it took a feat of strength to overcome them to function. He was the first thing in the universe I knew down to the core of my being that UNDERSTOOD. I had names for them now. Lust, love, anguish, betrayal, happiness, loyalty. All of which were felt in such extremes that I thought I would fall.”

“Now, here in front of you I can feel it, feel the old me sloughing away like a snake skin.” Regis was bucking up into his hand making pained noises as precum leaked from him in such quantity Geralt would have thought he had come. “My mutations are failing, but I want them to. I want to feel this, feel you, and feel everything. It’s intoxicating and I can not get enough.”

Geralt spit into his hand again adding a smoothness to the friction. 

“You are intoxicating,” Geralt whispered tonguing at Regis’ ear. The vampire keened and began to shudder.

“Geralt if you don’t stop I’ll…” Regis tried weakly to push Geralt away but Geralt stood fast. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Geralt said nibbling back down the vampires neck as his strokes quickened. “If you do say the word and I will. Right here right now no questions asked. Your terms Regis, still on your terms.”

He pulled away and looked at Regis. Regis whose tears had begun to roll from his eyes as he keened with need and want. Geralt felt fire racing inside of him. 

“Gods Geralt…” Regis’ breath was hitching and starting. “I need this, I want this. Wanted nothing more than this for so, so long.”

Geralt slammed Regis’ hips back and dropped. His mouth found the vampire’s cock and he took him. All of him till his nose was buried in the hair at his base. Regis yelled out in abandon as he grabbed Geralt’s head. Geralt knew he had worked him up near the edge, but Regis didn’t spare his mouth. Regis screamed out his orgasm his claws digging into Geralt’s head hard enough to draw blood. Geralt felt his mouth filled and swallowed on reflex, Regis’ seed tasted like ambrosia on his tongue. Rain, musk, and something so profound he didn’t have a name for it flooded his senses. He pulled off the vampire swallowing, but did so too soon. With another powerful push from Regis’ hips Geralt was painted from cheek to chest. 

Regis looked down horrified his hands resting on Geralt’s shoulders. Geralt smeared the sheer streak into his armor, then wiped off his cheek with his fingers. He stood with his eyes locked on Regis’ and sucked the fluid from his gloved fingers. Regis’ eyes went solid black as Geralt’s eyes rolled at the taste, the fluid building the fire in him. Geralt then ran his fingers over Regis’ lips and pressed. Regis greedily sucked off the rest his tongue lapping at the leather. Geralt groaned at the sight. 

He kissed the vampire again drawing himself close, his own needs unmet, though by design. When he pulled back Regis was partially transformed and panting. Geralt felt that itching begin in his teeth a thirst overtaking him. He hissed as Regis rocked his hips against Geralt. 

“Geralt, gods…” Regis breathed pulling away. “She’s almost here, I can smell her.”

“Go get the bruxae.” Geralt hissed. Regis puffed to mist and Geralt stumbled and glanced at the pike he had brought up with him from one of the banner men. He felt himself smiling. His plan was set.

He snapped his fingers and all the torches, but one in the center of the long hall, went out. Regis returned and Geralt shut the door to the outside. 

“Drop the one with the bomb.” Geralt purred and began pacing. “The other one wronged you did she not?”

“Yes.” Regis hissed looking down at the bruxa who had gutted him and was hissing right back at him. 

“What is an appropriate punishment for one that guts a fellow vampire?” Geralt’s voice rumbled low in his throat.

“Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth.” Regis hissed running a claw along the bruxa’s pinned shoulders. 

“Haley, Maria?” A voice called from outside. “Sheela? Kids? Where are you? It’s so quiet!”

“Seems an awful waste to just gut her.” Geralt said leaning back against the wall and stroking himself from outside his trousers. Regis saw the motion and growled. “I want to watch you Regis, watch as you rip her throat. I want to watch you drink her, drain her till she is almost dead then discard her.”

“Geralt…” The harshness of the word as he breathed it out sent shivers up his spine. Regis hesitated, warring against himself. “Do you know what you are asking?”

“You have not been as abstinent as you would like to play at, Regis.” Geralt said simply causing Regis to balk. “You have admitted to drinking from Dettlaff. This bruxa practically ripped you in two, take what you need to recover, no more. But I want to watch, I want to watch every second of it.”

Regis licked his lips and shuddered.

“I suppose it’s only fair.” Regis ran his fingers along the bruxa’s neck his fang’s elongating. “Only enough to recover.”

“Do it Regis, don’t made me beg.” Geralt arched against his hand. 

“Who’s that? Who’s in there?!” Geralt heard the footsteps turn and approach.

Regis’ eyes became veiled and he licked at the bruxa’s neck who began to hiss and squeal and try to wiggle away from his grip. 

Then his teeth struck true. The scream that ripped through the bruxa as Regis began to draw was nothing short of horrifying. Regis bucked against her as he swallowed, long, languidly and slow.

The door burst open and Janina burst in. 

“VANDA!” She screamed charging towards them, arms raised to cast a spell.

She never got the chance. Geralt cast a powerful Yrden and locked her to the spot disrupting her magic. She couldn’t move, and she was horrified.

“Andrew?!” She screamed but Regis was lost to the pull of blood. He was enjoying it sucking slowly.

“Ah I see we meet again my lady.” Geralt said approaching her from behind. “And such a lovely way to meet.”

“D… Drake? Is that you?!?” She cried. “Kill him! Kill that beast!”

Regis had pulled away from the bruxa’s neck, his mouth bloody and his eyes rolling as he dropped the bruxa to the floor and stumbled backwards in euphoria. 

“Ah that is where you are mistaken.” Geralt rounded in front of her. She gasped.

“Geralt of Rivia?” 

“The one and only.” He sneered. “Do you understand why I am here?”

“You… you know.” Janina was shaking. “How much?”

“I know everything.” Geralt said pacing in front of her. He could hear Regis behind him whispering to himself in that unknown language. “I know who you are, and the fact that you are still only an apprentice. An apprentice to Fringilla Vigo, who has left you here in charge of this place, while she has been indisposed and kept by the Emperor.”

Geralt took out his dagger from his belt, and took out the dimeritium cuffs from his satchel. He wrenched her arms behind her and locked them in place. Now she had no access to magic at all. She was gasping, her eyes wide. He ran the dagger down her arm drawing blood and she hissed.

“I know that you have been corroborating with Fringilla, Anna Henrietta, and Orianna to create and distribute a glamouring potion based off of the recipe the Lodge created to keep their youth.” Geralt hissed and traced the knife along her skin as he rounded on her, cutting her dress and exposing a breast. She jerked. 

“I know that you were under orders, not from Fringilla, not from Annarietta, but from Orianna to harvest the plague in children, and put it into the tinctures.” Geralt traced the knife around her neck under her jaw.

“But this place, those rooms.” Geralt looked at the shuddering mage her eyes full of fear. “Those were your doing, weren’t they?”

Janina’s mouth set in a grim line and her face paled. 

“Ah, that’s what I thought.” Geralt said. “Orianna likes to farm blood she is good at it, knows that to get the best blood one has to allow freedom, death is a part of this process that is unavoidable, especially when courting those that she wanted to use for her own political motivations. Fringilla wants to maneuver herself into a position of power again by helping to “cure” the plague she created. The loss of life to the plague was acceptable to her, and would have been acceptable to many others to put the lodge back into a position of power. Anarietta wanted eternal youth, and was sold the idea that the blood of children would increase her longevity even more. They would kill children, but never subject them to the psychological torture you put them through. A rape room? Cuffs so they couldn’t fight back? I am sure your client lists are long and many, and as we have cleared everything from this place, we will clear everything from your home. We will find those men, and women, and we will make sure they face death slowly, painfully.”

“But that begs to question.” Geralt said stepping back behind her and grabbing her hand. “Why would you do such a thing? It’s the only question I have which doesn’t have an answer.”

“You know nothing, Geralt of Rivia.” She spat twisting her head. “You are playing with powers that are beyond your reckoning and you may as well give up. Kill that higher vampire across the room from us, and hide. You will not escape them.”

“You have one more chance to answer my question. Why?” Geralt said grabbing one of her fingers and twisting it painfully. 

“I will not speak.” She said shaking. “Nothing you can do will make m….AHHHHHHHHH.”

Geralt took the tip of his knife and jammed it under her fingernail. Blood began to well through and she jerked forward trying to get out of his grasp. He dug the knife into the nail bed till it hit bone and started grinding into it. The mage screamed.

“This little piggy went to market…” Geralt said withdrawing the knife and positioning at the next finger. The mage gritted her teeth seething and looking back to Geralt, but refused to speak. Geralt jammed the knife this time vertically, splitting the nail and finger. She screamed again, and then Geralt repeated the motion he had with the first nail, jamming the knife under it lengthwise down to the bed, and ground it against the bone.

“This little piggy stayed home...” 

“No… no no no. You can’t do this, you can’t!” Panic welled up in her voice as Geralt jammed the knife again into the next finger, repeating the process verbatim. The mage screamed and thrashed. Geralt held her firmly. Regis had come out of his stupor and was watching in horror as Geralt interrogated the women, his hand over his nose. 

“This little piggy had roast beef…” 

“NO YOU… YOU MONSTER… STOP!” She screamed pleading. The smell of blood was getting thick. Geralt felt his mutation’s activate, and his teeth burned. Thirst began to rip through him. He plunged the knife repeating the process. 

“This little piggy had none….” 

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS. HE’LL KILL ME… HE’LL KILL EVERYONE.” The mage screamed tears running down her face. “PLEASE NO MORE.”

“All you have to do is answer the question…” Geralt said positioning the knife so the tip dug into her un-mangled thumb. 

“I… I… I can’t… I can’t. No… no no no.” The mage’s eyes became unfocused.

“And this little piggy…” Geralt thrust the knife into her thumb pushing the nail upwards and off. She screamed so loud blood began to pour from her mouth. She ruptured her vocal chords. Geralt ran the knife from the middle of the tip of her thumb to the palm. He withdrew and then, with a few jerking movements he severed her thumb and hung it fileted on the tip of his knife. She buckled over onto her knees and lost control of her bladder. He let her go and approached her and dangled the knife with her own thumb draped across the edge in front of her face.

“Squealed all the way home.” Geralt finished in a drawl.

“It’s… it’s the Elder. No… no more, please no more.” She screamed heaving. “The Elder, Elder Farccio. He… He ordered her… Ordered me. Please no more, I yield.”

“What did he order exactly?” Geralt crouched down and Regis approached his eyes narrowing. 

“He… He has a taste for ‘em! Specific tastes!” The mage howled. “I could do nothing! I had to do as he said!”

“Coward.” Regis spat. 

“There were others too, human men, women. All of them.” The mage rasped pink foamy drool pooling on the floor under her chin. “He ordered the room built to use it at his leisure, I could do nothing, I could do nothing.”

“There is always a choice!” Regis howled. “Always!”

“Kill him Geralt. That vampire that stands beside you.” The Mage ground out her eyes fearful and wide as Regis’ turned black. “He is no better, he will kill you… he will kill us all.” 

Geralt stood up dropping the knife and ran his hand along Regis’ face. Regis leaned into the touch automatically growling low in his throat. 

“He is mine, and I am his.” Geralt purred grabbing Regis’ lower back and pulling their hips flush. “Why would I kill the one whom I owe my life to?” 

Geralt leaned forward and kissed Regis.

He would remember this moment as the catalyst that started everything.

Blood from the bruxa still coated Regis’ mouth. Geralt felt a dam inside him full of unknown power break. He deepened the kiss, the storm unleashed. Smell became all encompassing and all driving. His nose flared his eyes widened. He pulled back and roared, the sound inhuman.

He grabbed Regis’ face and tilted his head as he lapped up the blood that had spilled down the vampire’s neck. He felt his tongue catch on his teeth, his own blood adding to the mix. He hissed and bucked into Regis as the vampire moaned. He bit the Regis on the neck hard enough to bruise, but he pulled back fighting against himself. 

“Tell me to stop Regis… tell me to stop.” Geralt begged as keen panic and hunger raced through him with a force he had never known. 

“Geralt… your eyes… your teeth?!” Regis balked grabbing Geralt’s face his eyes roving over it. 

“Your terms Regis!” Geralt hissed. “Tell me to stop, force me… Or… I can’t….”

“Geralt… I…” The moment of hesitation was all Geralt needed to break. 

Geralt felt his world center down to one point. Instinct driving him forward. He bit his tongue, hard, the fangs that filled his mouth ripping into it. He lunged forward and crushed his mouth to Regis’. Regis’ body responded automatically, his mouth opened, and Geralt’s blood flooded in. Regis crushed Geralt into him sucking at his tongue as Geralt kissed him. Geralt let his tongue run over Regis’ fangs, reveling the feel. Regis keened as he ripped the tie out of Geralt’s hair and pulled his head back, lacing his fingers through the milky white strands and staining them with the blood of the bruxa. 

Geralt exposed his neck, the invitation apparent. 

“Geralt…” Regis whined, his breath choking. 

“Your terms….” Geralt moaned bucking his hips. “Your terms…”

Regis growled low in his throat and bit Geralt hard. Geralt had never experienced anything like it. His body felt like it was on fire. He cried out and forced Regis’ head down. He felt him drawing, fully, powerfully. The poison wracked through his system. He felt his heart quicken.

“Yes… yes….” Geralt hissed thrusting himself into Regis’ hips with the movements of his swallows. “More!”

The smell of something, something tantalizing filtered into Geralt’s nose, overpowering the feeling of Regis at his throat. He ripped Regis’ head back and kissed him again, tasting his own blood in the vampire’s mouth. Then he grabbed the vampire, and threw him. Regis flew across the room and landed between the two bruxae, moaning, stunned. 

Geralt turned towards the tantalizing smell; the mage on the floor, bleeding from her wounds he had inflicted.

“You…. You’re one of them!” The mage tried to scramble up, fear filling Geralt’s nose. The smell adding yet another complicated layer to that which drove him forward. 

Geralt grabbed the mage by her hair and hoisted her up with one hand. He bent her neck and licked at the wound he had created earlier. Ambrosia hit his tongue.

“Geralt… what are you doing?” Regis attempted to stand, but he was unable to, stunned. 

Geralt held the woman in front of him and faced Regis. He craned her neck and licked it, finding her pulse beating erratically. She tasted of magic and fear. Geralt bared his teeth.

“NO GERALT STOP!” Regis bucked forward finally finding his feet, but it was too late.

Geralt felt his teeth sink into the tender pulsing flesh, finding their mark. He drew deeply, her blood filling his mouth with the taste he hadn’t known he had been craving. He pulled and swallowed, and Regis froze. 

Euphoria rushed through Geralt with a force unknown. He needed more, wanted more. But he also had a job to do. He pulled off and licked the wound.

“This… this is for them, all of them.” Geralt said finding the wound again and drawing. Each beat of her heart filled his mouth as she grew limp the smell of female arousal filling the air. The pressure behind his teeth was easing as he bit.

“STOP!” Regis threw himself at Geralt. Geralt saw him coming, his once blurred speed perfectly clear. He backhanded the vampire. Regis stumbled and Geralt pulled away roaring his voice carrying that double tone he had heard in Regis’ when he'd lost control in Tesham Mutna. 

“You deserve death.” Geralt breathed into the woman’s ear as she bled. “Your blood is vile, filled to the brim with cowardice, and self centeredness. Oh how I would love to drain you dry, but Orianna, she needs a lesson, she needs to know who she is dealing with.”

Geralt ripped the woman’s clothes off and threw her to the floor.

“Geralt!” Regis sobbed. 

Geralt walked over and grabbed the pike and grabbed the woman by her hair again. He turned towards the door and dragged her outside. The rain was still coming down fiercely, the sky was an eerie red as the sun had begun setting. 

“Get the bruxae.” Geralt growled turning, and looking at Regis his eyes determined.

“One final kiss for the lady.” Geralt said as Regis stumbled out of the door and threw the bruxae to the ground unceremoniously. His fangs ripped into the clean side of her neck and he drew again groaning as the liquid life filled his mouth. Regis finally saw his opening and ripped her from him. 

“Geralt! Stop this at once!” Regis roared grabbing his face. Lust tore it’s way through the bond from Regis. Geralt looked him in the eyes.

“Your terms. Regis.” Geralt hissed the blood flowing from his mouth. “What do you want?”

Geralt felt hesitation filtering through the bond in a way he hadn’t experienced. He was buffeted by a million thoughts and feelings before one settled and became crystal clear.

Regis’ eyes went wide his tongue running over his teeth. 

“I…” Geralt nipped at Regis’ lips drawing blood. The vampire keened.

“Decide, this is the crossroads, this is the true crossroads you were speaking about!” Geralt roared. “You deny me now, you deny me for eternity. Speak!”

“Geralt…” Regis held his head his fingers tearing into Geralt’s hair. “You… it was always you I wanted.” 

Geralt crashed forwards letting the blood that was left in his mouth flood into Regis’. Regis roared into his mouth and crushed himself against Geralt. Geralt ripped the band out of Regis’ hair and laced his fingers through the damp mass. He pulled Regis away.

“Help me.” Geralt separated himself from Regis and stumbled backwards. Regis groaned at the loss of contact.

The mage was attempting to crawl away weakly, covered in mud and blood. Geralt grabbed the pike.

“Hold her.” Geralt hissed and Regis grabbed the woman and flopped her on her back like a rag doll. He leaned over her and found the wound Geralt had left and licked at it. He shuddered as Geralt knelt on the ground. 

“Stop! No more… no more!” The mage cried as Geralt opened her legs.

Regis momentarily hunched over, looking away from the scene in front of him. Geralt chanced a quick look up and saw the vampire shake his head, and steel himself. Geralt looked back down

“This… this is for the children, for all of them.” Geralt said positioning the pike at her lips. “Now you shall know what it feels like to be torn asunder and left for dead.”

Geralt drew the pike forward slowly, reveling in her screams. 

“THIS IS ONLY A PORTION OF THE PAIN YOU CAUSED.” Geralt roared as he felt it pierce her insides. The sickly smell of bowel permeated the air. She screamed and Regis roared his claws tearing into her flesh as Geralt slowly moved the pike forward. Geralt halted and pulled a potion off his belt. Swallow. He popped the cork and poured it into her screaming mouth. He threw the bottle and maneuvered the pike again and pushed forward with a yell. She swallowed on reflex.

The pike burst out of her chest, missing her heart and catching her ribs. 

Geralt grinned as the swallow began to do its job and she gasped, pink foam rolling from her mouth and her eyes rolling. 

“You shall be displayed for all to see, as a warning.” Geralt said looking at Regis. “Release her.” 

Regis did so stumbling backwards and Geralt hefted the woman upright and drove the pole into the ground. She shuddered and convulsed, unable to make a sound.

“Beautiful.” Regis purred approaching Geralt. “Simply, and utterly beautiful.” 

Geralt felt lust pulse through the bond. Lust, pride, and justice. 

Geralt looked at Regis his eyes blowing wide. Regis closed the distance with speed and kissed Geralt again. Geralt growled into the kiss cutting his tongue on his fangs again and letting Regis taste him. Pleasure roared it’s way through the bond pleasure, lust and need.

Geralt pulled away. 

“One last thing.” Geralt stepped forward and made the sign for Igni, and in a blast the likes he had never created before, sent flames from the tips of his fingers, engulfing the orphanage in white hot flames. It caught despite the rain. And soon was roaring. 

Geralt let his arm flop down. 

“It is done.” He said watching as the flames reflected on the slowly dying mage’s skin, the two bruxae were frozen their eyes wide with fear.

Regis approached Geralt and put his arms around him. Geralt leaned into the touch, his thirst slacked, his mind buzzing with euphoria. His cock straining against his trousers. 

“Geralt, that was beautiful, well done.” Regis nuzzled into his nape and licked at the wound there, shuddering.

“Regis, I am sorry.” Geralt breathed his breath hitching. “For everything.”

“Don’t be.” Regis said pulling back and running his hands through Geralt’s wet hair. “I didn’t know what I was getting into, neither did you. Now we have a new dynamic to explore and share. And I for one don’t care a lick about what anyone thinks. We shall navigate this together, you and I.”

“Your addiction.” Guilt ripped through Geralt. 

“Is alive and well, but sated, and will be with your help.” Regis said nuzzling Geralt’s throat and licking at the blood there. “I could be satisfied for eternity with just a drop of you.”

Geralt’s armor suddenly felt too tight, and he pulled away from Regis. He began stripping himself; his swords hit the ground, then his chest armor, then his boots, and leg armor. He stripped himself down to nothing then turned to face Regis, blood dripping from his neck down his chest, watering down with the rain. Regis gasped his fingers flexing. 

“I submit Regis.” Geralt groaned, his erection free and clear. “I submit to your terms. Do with me what you will, I want you, all of you. You can have all of me, everything that I am is yours.”

“Geralt…” Regis hissed and approached him. The kiss was fierce. The smell of rain on the air, and the smell of Regis and his musk filled Geralt to bursting. Regis pulled away and Geralt craned his neck. 

“Drink.” Geralt said running his hands down the vampire’s clothed front. Regis lurched forward and his fangs found the wound. He pressed down, and Geralt felt the poison running into him as Regis took a long pull. He held his head down encouraging him. Regis moaned and bucked against him. Geralt felt the lust rush through him buzzing in his ears and settling in his groin. Regis pulled away gasping. Geralt lunged forward and kissed him, the tang of his blood filling his mouth. 

“Regis… need you… need all of you.” Geralt panted as he strained against the vampire begging for contact. 

Regis stepped back and fished in his bag and found what he was looking for. In an instant he blinked, his clothes falling into a pile. Geralt balked as the vampire reappeared in front of him. Regis guided them to the ground .Geralt ran his hands over the vampire and Regis leaned backwards on his elbows allowing Geralt to explore him for the first time. Geralt leaned over and licked at the vampire’s cock causing Regis to moan and buck upwards. 

“Gods you smell good.” Geralt said burying his face in the now damp fuzz at the base of his cock. “I want to be covered in you, smell like you.”

“Geralt whatever you wish, I will provide.” Regis said his voice husky and unguarded. 

Geralt bit and licked up the trail of fuzz that lead from Regis’ cock to his chest. He licked at the vampire’s nipple and bit down eliciting a gasp from Regis. Geralt moaned himself at the sight. Geralt leaned up and kissed Regis again, seating himself on the vampire’s thighs and spreading his legs. Regis’ hand found Geralt’s cock and stroked it, causing Geralt to break the kiss and arch upwards. 

“Please Regis… Need you.” Geralt hissed as Regis’ hand worked him into a frenzy. 

“Lean back Geralt.” Regis said and popped the cork on the bottle and let it leak onto his cock. Oil, simple oil. Geralt licked his lips.

“Do you know what to do?” Regis asked. Stroking himself. He _oofed_ as Geralt grabbed him and shifted their positions sitting Regis upright. Geralt laid himself on the ground and grabbed at his chest armor dragging it over and positioning it under his hips. 

“Gods, you are beautiful Geralt.” Regis said leaning over Geralt and running his hands through the damp white fuzz on the witcher's chest. “You can’t imagine how many years I have wanted this, waiting, dreaming.”

Regis shifted himself and positioned himself at the tight pucker of Geralt’s ass. Geralt moaned the sound wanton and lustful and turned his head.

“You are absolutely exquisite, let me see your face as I enter you.” Regis said taking a clawed hand and turning Geralt’s face towards him. “Let me drink in this sight that I have craved for so, so very long.”

Geralt looked at Regis, his breath coming in deep pants. He felt Regis shift again, then pressure. Geralt kept his eyes on Regis, watching him just as much as he was watching Geralt. Geralt moaned and Regis hissed as he pushed forwards slowly.

“Yessss, every bit as ethereal as I had dared to dream.” Regis rasped his voice heavy in his throat. 

“Gods, Regis please….” Geralt keened, loosing himself to the sensation of being slowly filled. When his hips were flush with Geralt he moaned shuddering. 

“Regis for Melitele’s sake, move!” Geralt shifted his hips. Regis smirked. He withdrew slowly, causing Geralt to groan in ecstasy and frustration. 

“As you wish.” Regis said baring his fangs. He thrust forward with speed causing Geralt to cry out and see sparks. He then began withdrawing slowly. Geralt scrambled for purchase his hands digging into the mud as Regis trust forward again. Geralt roared as the sensation ripped through him. 

“I have waited far too long to hold myself back Geralt.” Regis said panting with effort as he withdrew again slowly. He shifted his hips again and changed his angle. The next thrust hit that spot inside Geralt that caused his toes to curl and his hair to stand on end. The pleasure was deep, encompassing. Exquisite indeed.

The pace started slow with Regis milking every inch of himself inside of Geralt. His hands found Geralt’s hips and turned and shifted him keeping Geralt humming with every stroke over his prostate. It was deep, and different, and building with each pass. Regis had begun talking again, coaxing Geralt along. The rhythm began to increase and Regis began to lose his words. Geralt was way past the point of attempting to make any sort of coherent noises. He tried to reach himself to coax himself along, but Regis smacked his hand away.

“Too… too slow Regis.” Geralt finally blurted as Regis pushed into him again the vampire grinning like an idiot.

“So impatient.” Regis’ grin reached his eyes, and Geralt knew, _knew_ he had been teasing him on purpose. Mirth flitted through the bond. 

Geralt growled in frustration, and finally had enough. In a single smooth movement he was upright and in Regis’ lap straddling the vampire. Regis hissed through his teeth and Geralt grinned his fangs still long, and catching the fire. He sheathed Regis deep inside himself slowly, much like Regis had been doing. Then Geralt rocked his hips. Regis grunted and thrust up into him.

“I see how it is.” With another sharp roll of his hips Regis’ hands found Geralt’s thighs. With a another, Geralt found the angle he needed. He arched his back and began to ride Regis setting a harsh pace. Every rock of his hips hit that spot inside of him, coaxing him onwards. Regis looked lost as he thrust himself up into Geralt crying out as Geralt grunted. Geralt lost himself to the feeling, Regis’ wanton cries pushing him ever closer. His arms finally gave out and he found himself with his face buried in the vampire’s shoulder gripping onto him as he drove himself down on the vampire purely on instinct. 

“Gods Regis I am so close!” His breathing came in harsh pants and deep guttural whines as his thrusting became erratic. 

“Geralt!” Regis stretched his neck upwards his body beginning to tense. Geralt was drawn to the movement. “Please gods!”

Geralt growled low in his throat and bit the vampire, hard right at the pulse point that had driven him wild the night before. Euphoria blanketed over Geralt as he drew from him. He felt Regis tense and felt claws raking at his back. 

Regis had screamed something incoherent, and Geralt felt his world reeling. He sucked at Regis’ neck and suddenly was able to feel everything Regis was feeling. It was an incoherent mess where he was both fucking and getting fucked. The intensity of the moment caused him to cum harder than he had ever in his life. He knew Regis was cumming too, because in that strange moment they were one. He exposed his neck once again and Regis found it. The pain and pleasure of his teeth popping through newly healed skin sent him into a secondary orgasm more intense than the first, bordering on painful. White light filled his vision as he lost track of his physical body and felt nothing but white hot burning pleasure coursing through his veins. His body seizing and his hips jerking. Geralt crashed back into reality, panting, the vampire still drawing from him.

Regis pulled away and made that infernal smacking noise with his lips. Geralt laughed and collapsed. With an effort that felt greater than it should have been he slid himself off Regis, carefully, as he knew both he and the vampire were over sensitive. He began licking at the wounds he had left on Regis’ neck. Regis hummed with satisfaction as Geralt’s tongue darted over the wound, picking up the last of the sweet nectar that had been left behind. To Geralt’s surprise the wounds healed nearly instantly as his tongue ran over them. When he settled his head in the crook of Regis’s neck Regis did the same to him. When he was finally done he settled back with a contented sigh. 

_Gods I want to do that to him a thousand times over._ The thought wasn’t his and Geralt started. 

_Holy fucking shit I am going insane. Fuck, Regis, fucking amazing. Tasted so good, better than I could have imagined. He is mine, and I am his, forever. Gods forever, Forever is a long fucking time, and if we spend it doing that holeeeeshit! I wonder if it’s possible to chap my dick if I use it too much. Hasn’t happened before, oh gods, what’s wrong with me. I still have fucking teeth the size of Yennfers Ego._

Regis laughed a long and throaty laugh causing Geralt to sit up on his chest and look at him.

“What?” Geralt said. _Oh man, he is laughing at me, what did I fuck up? I fucked something up I know I did. Well I am fucked up so I guess I may have to figure out a scale to measure things by. Gods I am hungry, and not for blood, but for food._

“I can hear every word you are thinking Geralt.” Regis said with a grin. And you can hear my every thought as well. 

_That means…_ Geralt’s eyes popped open wide. “You’ll be able to understand what I am trying to say when I am confused or can’t word things right!”

 _Wait… I am going to be horrible at this. It’s hard enough to speak my mind, now that my mind is open he is going to hear all the things. ALL OF THEM. And I thought it was bad when he could just smell me when I got bothered. Now he is going to hear everything I think and is going to understand it!._

“Shhhh calm yourself Geralt. The first several days are the worst till we learn how to re-filter our brains. It will take time, but we can figure it out. In the mean while, yes we will hear each other’s every thought. So in advance I am sorry.”

“Why would you have to be sorry?” Geralt asked. _Forgetting something, forgetting something important. Smoke has shifted, smoke, fire, there is that dumb fucking mage, still alive! Swallow was genius. Feeling slightly guilty about piking her, reminds me a bit too much of seeing the mages burned in Novigrad. There are the bruxae. The… bruxae!_

Regis and Geralt looked at eachother eyes wide.

Geralts mind had switched to rapid fire strategy mode, which was hard for Regis to follow. Regis’ thoughts drifted in terrified.

 _He… he is going to know. The Elder will know! Oh gods what have I done, they are all going to die. All the friends I still hold dear, Dettlaff!_ Regis began to shudder and draw in on himself, his arms crossing his bare chest, and his knees drawing upwards. His eyes widened as terror raced through him. _Fuck the Elder, I can still feel that dirt licking leach, feel him inside of me. I am used, broken, and now instead of holding back I have brought the most important person to me into this, into everything!_

Regis suddenly found himself in Geralt’s embrace. He had started to shake.

“If you think for one minute that they were going to leave me out of your mess because you didn’t declare openly your affections for me, you are sadly mistaken.” Geralt growled, feeling as memories filtered in from Regis’ time recently with the elder. “He knew already, and so did the god damned world apparently except for me. We can use this. Orianna knows she is on the Elders shitlist, even if it is for him to take over her assets. Well we just ruined and burned the primary one. We pretend ignorance to his involvement other than he wants Orianna dead for business.”

Regis nodded and Geralt sent wave after wave of protectiveness to the vampire. Regis leaned into him and allowed himself to be held. 

Geralt keyed up his witcher senses momentarily, persistently on guard. Drawing on his primary mutations dulled his secondary ones and he felt his teeth settle back and his nails return. He ran his tongue over his teeth, back to normal. He sighed. He reached out and felt around. He was surprised to clearly feel the two bruxae. He had never been able to feel vampires. No one could. Their magic was alien. 

“We need to handle those two.” Geralt said refocusing on the bruxae. “We also need to get going otherwise they are going to send a search party, and finding you and I naked, bloody, and full of mud is going to be too much for them.”

Regis sighed.

“We have so much to go over.” Regis nuzzled against Geralt’s shoulder. Thoughts filtered in to Geralt about the children and wanting to see them, and a worried buzz about how the ill trained medics were doing to help them. 

“We have several days of hard travel, we can talk as we go.” Geralt said pulling back. “Will you be ok?”

No, likely not, not ever, but I’ll manage. Like I always have. “Yes Geralt, I will be fine.” Geralt frowned and tilted Regis’ head up with his hand. 

“Do not lie for my sake Regis.” Geralt said feeling the vampire wince. “We are in this together. You are my forever, and I am yours. You don’t have to face anything alone, not now, not again.”

He kissed the vampire gently and felt the fear melt away from Regis as he pushed strength and steadiness into the bond. He pulled back just as easily and rested his head against Regis’s.

“Let’s go, the longer we delay, the more likely we are to be seen.” Geralt said performing another sweep.

Geralt kissed him on the forehead and dislodged himself as their limbs were still tangled. Regis’ thought pattern settled onto practical matters, and hope. Geralt stood, using the rain water to rinse himself off as best as he could. Geralt searched around and found his pants, soaked through, his shirt, also soaked through, and his armor, also hopelessly soaked through. Grumbling to himself he put them on. The bruxae were watching him and Regis. And when everything was back in place and Regis had gathered himself Geralt turned and approached the bruxae.

He approached the one with the bomb in her mouth first, and removed it. She let out a pained cry and flexed her jaw, her head leaning down and resting on the muddy ground. Geralt turned to the second, who was weak due to blood loss. He felt a twang of connection between Regis and the bruxa. 

“I took her blood When a higher vampire takes a lower vampire’s blood they are in our thrall till we release them.” Regis said looking at the bruxa who instead of looking at him in fear looked at him in shame. Sadness and contriteness rolled through the bond.

“So you are Regis’s huh? And by proxy mine?” Geralt asked, and the bruxa nodded her head. “You belonged to Orianna, didn’t you?”

“Yessssss.” She hissed. 

“I am not in the habit of subjugating those who I view as equals.” Geralt said reaching over and beginning to untie the bruxa. “Slavery and forced servitude never sat well with me.”

“I agree completely.” Regis said bending down and helping Geralt untie her. 

“You do not wish to punish me for gutting you further?” The bruxa said moaning as the chain was finally released. Her shoulders were dislocated, her skin was charred where the silver had hit, and her skin was peppered with red bumps. 

“The law of reciprocity has been fulfilled.” Regis said simply and dug into his bag. He brought out two items. One was a medicine Geralt was familiar with as he had given it to Dandelion on several occasions when he had gotten into patches of poison ivy; the other was the large still mostly-full decanter of glowing blue liquid Regis had used in the black black blood, or Dettlaff’s elixir.

He handed the medicine to the bruxa.

“Take a sip, just a sip, it will relieve the itching.” Regis said. The bruxa popped her shoulders back into place and hissed, then shakily took the bottle and took a small sip, wincing at the bitter liquid. Her relief was immediate as the red in her skin began to taper. She handed the bottle back to Regis who re corked it.

“Now this, I am going to give you a cap full. Nothing more.” Regis said opening the decanter. The smell that filtered out of it caused Geralt’s mouth to water and his stomach constrict.

“What on earth is that?” Geralt said wanting a taste.

“A mystery, even to me.” Regis said pouring a cap full and handing it to the bruxa. “And a last resort.”

The bruxa downed it greedily, then moaned. She shuddered and fell backwards the smell of female arousal and relief filling the air so pungently Regis and Geralt winced, before looking at each other and laughing.

“Cap please my dear.” Regis said as the bruxa lay on the ground, shakily handed the cap back. Geralt studied her then blinked as the burns began to heal quickly.

“It’s a potent healing potion, one that apparently comes from our home world.” Regis said “I am attempting to find a way to synthesize it here, but I have yet to have enough time to do so.”

“We will make that your first priority when you get back.” Geralt said standing back up and going over to the other bruxa.

“As for you…” The bruxa hissed and Geralt withdrew his sword.

“You are to carry a message.” Geralt said and then looked over to the recovering bruxa. “You as well.”

“Tell Orianna I wish to meet with her.” Geralt said digging the tip of the silver into the bound bruxa’s neck. “I will meet with her and treat with her on my terms at a time of my choosing. She will be there. I will leave instructions, with a crow, at the ruins of La Compassion. She doesn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“Why would I help you.” The bruxa said hissing. “You are a traitor to our kind, go and find her yourself.”

“I am not of your kind.” Geralt said firmly.

“I know what you are I saw it with my own eyes.” The bruxa hissed. Geralt reached down and pulled her up by her hair. 

“You will tell her, because I am a witcher, not of your kind despite what you saw. I am not bound by your laws, thus if you don’t want your life to end right now.” Geralt pulled Aerondight across the bruxa’s neck enough to spill blood. “You will relay the message.”

The bruxa gasped.

Geralt withdrew the sword and began untying her. Unlike the one that was in Regis’ thrall, he didn’t offer her anything to heal her or ease her discomfort. 

“Go now, get out of my sight, both of you.” Geralt hissed and stood back wrapping the gore covered chain back into a loop.

Both of them stood, turned invisible, and darted off into the night.

“They will tell them.” Regis said softly worry flooding through him. 

“They will know anyway.” Geralt said affixing the chain to his belt. “That Elder of yours, for all his years, is impossibly stupid. He never made the effort to understand humans.”

“Even among humans our relationship will be taboo.” Regis said his hands tightening around his satchel. “My vampirism aside, couples of the same gender are rarely looked on in a favoring light in the human world.”

The fear of rejection ripped through the bond. Geralt turned to Regis and grabbed his hands.

“I am a century old Regis.” Geralt said squeezing the vampires hands tightly Regis had tears in his eyes. “You are four. I am old, I have no tolerance for people and their opinions in matters that don’t concern them. I am not hiding this. Nor should you have to. You already have to hide enough, there is absolutely no point in adding to the list.”

Regis laughed sadly and wiped at his eyes. 

“I am being a fool aren’t I.” He said a sliver of hope coming through the bond. 

“You are the furthest thing from a fool I know.” Geralt said squeezing the hand that remained. “Your concerns are valid, and no one should tell you otherwise, but as far as me? I would never hide you as a dirty secret.”

Regis laughed.

“You sure you want Dandelion to know?” Regis smiled causing Geralt to groan.

“Damned him and his fool quill.” Geralt hissed. “He will know the damned moment we walk in. And nothing I will say will stop his muse.”

“Come on, we need to get back, and I am starved.” Geralt said turning and putting a hand over Regis’ hip. Regis laughed and his hands relaxed off the satchel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note: The first time I wrote this chapter I completely forget to get the bruxa out of the building… so they died. Oops! I found it so funny I laughed for a good ten minutes when I figured it out on my ride home from my usual writing spot. Imagining Regis and Geralt figuring this out and going “Well fuck… there goes that plan.” Is hilarious to me.
> 
> Quick character note on Geralt. Geralt is a monster hunter, and human hunter. He has been shown to be downright cruel when it comes down to it. He has a mean streak and he isn’t a perfect hero. He will do what is right, most of the time, however he is shown in the lore to want to tear people to bits simply for the pleasure of it. He is human, in a medieval landscape full of monsters and magic that is surrounded by horrors on daily basis. Torture to collect information is not above him, and would be expected of him if necessary. It’s just a tool, another in his arsenal. He is not a pacifist. And because of his witcher training, the only moral gauge he has gained throughout the years has been through experience, Vesemir attempted after the program to instill some empathy into who was left, but he was just as blind as them.
> 
> Character note on Regis. Despite his appearances Regis is complicated. He isn’t just a doting friend who gave up blood because he was a drunkard and addict. He wanted to, and wants to, but as has been evidenced throughout the books, he struggles with it. In my opinion he does so because blood IS needed. Regis is effectively an anorexic vampire and is dying as a result of not taking it in. Even in small doses. When he needs power, or he needs to do something that requires strength. He drinks. When Geralt and the party first run into Regis, there are outright rumors of a vampire. Geralt and them think they find that it isn’t, but IMHO I think Regis was already falling off the train when Geralt and Co showed up.
> 
> Another example of this is when Regis Rescues Dandelion and Geralt from the Temerians’s when they learn of his nature (he puts the guards to sleep). He tells them to go on ahead and he will meet them back at camp. There are no big mentions of the Temerian's following them other than a slight fear and a small party. 
> 
> Regis had been falling off the wagon for a while, yup yup.
> 
> FINALLY… FUCKING FINALLY OH MY GOD. They are finally connected!!! Geralt is… Geralt is a what exactly? Mystery is deepening. There is still so much story left!!! HAHHAHA I finished this Chapter October 31st 2018. Hee hee.


	26. Mutation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just… a taste, Geralt.” Regis purred, leaning over; his blood dripping from his wrist in rivulets and searing Geralt where they splattered amongst the blood from his wounds that was now covering his chest. Regis held his wrist above the witcher’s mouth, leaned into his chest, and grinned evilly as Geralt felt control abandon him and he felt his tongue loll out to catch what he could.
> 
> Drop by small drop of ambrosia hit his tongue, and Geralt felt himself keen with need. The drops were just a taste of what he wanted. They only served to heighten his thirst which now filled him. When Regis reached over and grabbed one of the items off the nightstand he didn’t think anything of it. He saw a flash; his eyes drawn to the object.
> 
> “Look at yourself Geralt.” Regis purred. “Look at what you are.”
> 
> ********

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!
> 
>   **Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!**
> 
> ok Folksies!!!
> 
> Warnings this time....
> 
> Bloodplay  
> Wounds....  
> crappy humor  
> Children corpses  
> mentions of death  
> More sex  
> Mentions of plague aftermath including an amputation and description of the limb  
> Mentions of abuse
> 
> ********

Geralt and Regis toured the orphanage and made sure all parts of it were burning. Regis for his part went strolling through the fire like it was nothing and made sure the labs were on fire. Then they both made sure the body pit was ablaze. The commander’s men had done their jobs thoroughly, and Geralt felt at peace knowing that they could finally rest. After that, with the barrier gone now, Regis and Geralt went to the copse of trees where Geralt whistled for Roach. Vlad trailed behind her looking smug; his tail in the air and nipping at her flank.

Regis had turned his focus from worrying about the Unseen Elder, to fretting about the children and the care they would need after their ordeal. Geralt couldn’t help but smile at the wave of planning that went through Regis’ head as they mounted their horses and made a straight line back to the garrison. Geralt knew they both looked like hell. Despite the steady rain that was still falling, Geralt’s armor was caked in mud, and Regis’ overcoat and shirt had a cut in the middle that was stained with his blood. Geralt looked down to his armor; bits of gore, and a streak of cum that Geralt had stubbornly refused to wipe off himself littered the surface, and Geralt was positive both him and Regis reeked. Geralt didn’t care. The armor smelled like himself and Regis, and he caught himself more than once taking a deep breath of the cacophony.

Regis was slightly annoyed and still wary about being out in the open, but Geralt insisted that through the overwhelming smell of corpses and blood no one would notice the other smells. Humans just didn’t have noses that were _that_ sensitive.

He wasn’t wrong.

They arrived back at the garrison to cheers and jeers; heroes they were. Regis immediately rushed to the medical tents to help with the injured children, leaving Geralt to seek out the commander. Geralt realized the second they arrived in camp what Regis meant by “Sorry that I can’t shield you from my thoughts.”. The steady stream of information that was flowing from Regis was overwhelming and impressive. Each person was instantly classified, summed up, smelled, diagnosed, and put into categories of _‘will they figure me out, yes or no?’_. The amount of processing Regis did while choosing his words, choosing his actions was absolutely staggering.

Geralt was led to the commander’s tent where he was surrounded with his men going over plans on raiding Janina’s house. When Geralt arrived and flopped into a free chair the commander ushered them out.

“Please Geralt, have a drink, you look as though you could use it.” The commander grinned, pouring out something that was honey-sweet and thick.

Geralt took the cup and tossed it back. It burned pleasantly on the way down and tasted of honey.

“An Skellige single malt whiskey with honey.” The commander preened.

“Do you have everything crated and stored?” Geralt asked, handing his cup back in a silent request for a re-fill, which the commander obliged. This time Geralt sipped at it, the alcohol cutting through how cold he felt now that night had fallen and his still damp clothes leeching away his remaining body heat.

“Yes, and the ravens are away.” The commander nodded.

Geralt grunted and took another sip.

“What happened after we left, Geralt?” The commander asked, taking a seat. “Fill me in.”

“I piked her.” Geralt’s tone was tight as he looked into his drink.

“You… You what?”

“Go see for yourself, commander. I piked her.” Geralt snapped. “I ran her through with a banner pole one of your men left behind, fed her some swallow. She is alive, but will never recover. If you leave her there she will die of sepsis or drowning within a few days if she doesn’t die of shock or thirst first. Vampires got her, we fended them off. Then I tortured her for information by ripping out her fingernails. An approved method of the Nilfgaardian Empire. She broke when I cut off her thumb.”

The commander stared at him gob smacked.

“Geralt…”

“Look, I know what you are going to say.” Geralt took another sip of the whiskey, avoiding the commander’s gaze. “Nothing you have read about me would lend itself to what I did today. You would be wrong. I have tortured and have _been tortured_. I know my way around a rack thanks to the new King of Temeria. The second I was dragged into politics was the second I learned how to quickly get the information I need. Dandelion would paint me as a noble man, full of justice and in turns full of empathy. He isn’t wrong, but when justice needs to be served I will do the same I do with any contract. Use any means necessary to accomplish my ends.”

“That is why the Emperor named you Dhu Evn'gesaen.” The commander’s hand began to shake as he poured himself another glass.

“The Emperor and I have a history that spreads further back than anyone realizes.” Geralt said staring at the map of Brugge on the wall of the tent. “Next to Dandelion and Regis, he knows me best. My ire has been pointed at him on more than one occasion. I wouldn’t call him a friend, but his throat has been at the end of my sword more than once. The fact that he lives is a testament to my patience.”

“You cannot speak of the Emperor that way!” The commander’s voice was choked with shock.

“I can and I will. I am the only one that does.” Geralt scowled into his glass. “He is surrounded on all sides by simpering sycophants and money grubbing guild members. Having someone that is irrevocably blunt with him is irreplaceable. Especially since he knows I wouldn’t kill him now.”

“Now?!” The commander blurted.

“Yes, now.” Geralt shrugged, taking another sip.

The commander sat back and took another shot of the whiskey.

“The title is well warranted then.” The commander finally conceded. “Forgive me for prying.”

Geralt grunted.

“Is there anything else?” Geralt asked, his golden eyes finding the commander’s.

“No, you can leave at your leisure.” The commander’s eyes were distant. Geralt stood up and set the cup on the table.

“Thanks for the whiskey, it was a real treat.” Geralt’s dry voice was hard to read and the commander shook his head.

“Geralt, I have misjudged you in numerous ways. For that I apologize.” The commander looked up and stood. He reached out his hand.

Geralt felt a small smile grace his lips as he took the hand and shook it firmly.

“What you have done for us on this day will go down in memory.” The commander’s tone was formal as he shook Geralt’s hand. “You may not believe it yourself, but you are a hero, especially to those children. A champion of the innocent, working from the shadows. A pox be upon all that get in your way!”

Geralt smiled tiredly, let go and turned out the door, finding his way back to the medical tents. The cacophony of children’s voices was out of place in the garrison, but the way the soldiers hovered and smiled and coddled those that were curious made Geralt’s heart melt. One child was running around with a winged helmet that was too big, it was flopping over his eyes. The soldier it came from, his hair a mess and disheveled, had tears in his eyes as he smiled at the child. Bittersweet.

Geralt hadn’t even realized he had been tuning Regis’ constant thoughts out till he saw the vampire and focused in on him. He was telling one of the stories of traveling with the hansa, specifically the one where him and Cahir had gotten into a row, and Milva had beaten them half to death with a belt. His mind was elsewhere though. The child that was on the bed had a tourniquet around his lower leg; his foot had been amputated. He had a piece of ironwood in his small mouth, and the smell of beggartick was thick in the air, as was the smell of the plague. A closer look at the boy’s form let Geralt know the body was in the late stages of the plague. Another much more rancid smell filtered through as he got closer. He saw the rag that Regis had wrapped the boy’s foot in, the black toes just barely peeking out from beneath it. The boy’s foot was septic, the amputation had likely saved his life.

Geralt watched silently from the entrance of the tent as the children hovered around their friend, petting him, coaxing him. One, a little girl, sat on the bed holding his hand. They were all asking questions as Regis regaled them with the story. Even the boy on the bed was nodding and giggling despite the ironwood bite in his mouth. Regis was focused on his work. He had cut away all the dead tissue and now was threading a stitching needle with catgut. He then ran his fingers over an orange with white mold growing on it and smoothed it down the catgut string.

He turned towards the boy and a jar of the familiar concoction that had been used on his own neck to numb his infected bruxa bite was held in his hands, the lid open. Geralt reached up unconsciously to feel the state of his neck. Shock ran through him as he pressed his fingers into his neck that had been torn open multiple times by teeth. The bandage was still there; it had been pierced through and covered in his blood, but below it there was nothing now. Just warm skin and no pain. Geralt grabbed at his wrist, same thing.

 _In a minute Geralt, need to concentrate._ Regis shot over, not allowing his eyes to leave the boy as he smoothed the oil over the wound. The boy lashed out and Regis put a firm yet gentle hand on his chest.

“It will be numb in a moment, then all you will feel is warmth.” Regis cooed, stroking the boy’s hair as his friends looked on in worry. The struggling stilled and Regis handed the boy a rag. Tears had spilled out of his eyes.

“Blow your nose and clean your face, the rest shall be easy.” The boy nodded and did as he was told.

Geralt took a moment, while Regis began stitching the wound, to look around the tent. Similar scenes were playing themselves out. Some of the children looked uninjured. Others had stitches, still others had casts applied. The medics were joking around with the children, keeping the mood easy. When one of the children would cry out the other children would rush to comfort them. Nostalgia washed over Geralt in a wave he wasn’t expecting.

For a moment he stood back in Kaer Morhen, laying in a bed whimpering as his first true friend in the world laid across from him; his breath coming in ragged gasps. Other children and young witchers flooded around them. Coaxing them, calming them. Geralt looked around and saw Vesemir and the elf mage Iongram holding a silent vigil. He reached over and grabbed the sweating boy’s hand. The boy’s breathing evened and he coughed.

“Eskel, I am here.” Geralt felt himself say.

“G… Geralt?”Eskel opened his eyes. Geralt felt himself get giddy when he saw the amber and yellow cat eyes staring back at him.

“We made it!” Geralt said, his voice excited despite how weak he felt. The boy on the cot next to his was jostled as the children around them cheered and danced. He smiled weakly.

“We made it.”

A hand on his shoulder startled him back to reality. Regis had finished up with the boy and a soldier had him in his arms and was carrying him out of the tent.

“Geralt…” Regis’ eyes were filled with sorrow.

Geralt winced as he shoved the memory back.

“Sorry, wasn’t expecting that.” Geralt said rubbing at his temple, a headache budding.

“No need to apologize.” Regis said, smiling sadly. “The last of the children have been attended to. They left him for me since I have surgery experience. He was the worst of them. If the infection recedes now that he’s received treatment he will live a long, hopefully happy life.”

“Come on Regis, let’s go back.” Geralt said, finally feeling fatigue creep up on him.

“Yes, let’s.” Regis sighed, his own exhaustion filtering through the bond.

Regis said his goodbyes to the medical staff and thanked them for their quick work. Then he followed Geralt to the horses and mounted them, heading back towards Dillingen proper at a snail’s pace.

Geralt’s mind was comfortably blank and tired. Regis’ was much the same, though he was going over his surgery in his mind with a fine toothed comb making sure he hadn’t missed anything. Geralt felt himself reaching out for Dettlaff to check on the vampire. He could pinpoint him with his mind’s eye. Still sleeping his comatose state, flooding out contentment.

“Regis, why is Dettlaff still asleep, and how did he sleep through that?” Geralt asked, looking at the horizon in the direction his mind said Dettlaff was located.

Geralt felt Regis’ mind reel, then he was sucked in. He looked up frantically and the scene before him made him feel instantly ill. Rage, hurt, fear, worry and horror blasted through him, each wrestling with the next. Dettlaff was suspended in the air by chains made of metal. Small chains with hooks were laced through his skin, which was filleted open. His head was locked in a permanent scream, metal had been poured into his mouth. He was cut open to expose the damage. The metal had melted its way around his heart, exposed lungs and ribs.

His skin was cut from his bones and was displayed openly, held in place by wires and pins. His innards were draped around more chains. They pulsed weakly. Geralt felt rage rip through him then he looked to the side. He saw Ciri. She was holding her hands over her mouth tears running down her face as she stared in horror. She doubled over and vomited. She looked up again and into his eyes.

“Regis, dear gods, what have they done to him?!”

Geralt blinked and he was back on Roach. Regis’ eyes were harsh and hard as he stared into the distance.

“I mentioned before he was injured.” Regis said, his hands tightening on Vlad’s reins.

“Regis, why was Ciri there?” Geralt growled moving Roach beside Vlad.

Regis winced.

“You saw, didn’t you?” He asked, avoiding Geralt’s gaze. Panic began to filter through the bond, panic, pain, fear. Geralt nudged Regis’ leg, his ire washed away by the vampire’s reaction.

“Yes, I saw.” Geralt said. “We will speak of it later, when you are ready.”

The relief that flooded through Regis was immediate.

“Thank you Geralt, I promise I will soon. Right now it’s still too harsh and fresh to re-live.” Regis looked off into the distance. The rain had begun to taper and was coming down in a soft mist.

 _That she-devil._ Geralt thought to himself annoyed. _She knew all along and didn’t tell me._

“I asked her not to, Geralt.” Regis sighed. “Do not blame her, she is very honorable with her promises, something I admire greatly.”

Geralt grumbled and was flooded by memories of a young Ciri mouthing off and being cheeky. The memories were a welcome distraction, and the soft burst of mirth through the bond showed that Regis was enjoying them far too much. Geralt smiled despite his best efforts.

The rest of the ride was spent with Geralt fondly remembering Ciri, something that filled him with warmth that was indescribable. Regis allowed him to, their legs brushing together as the horses walked back to Silas’.

When they arrived back Geralt stripped himself of his armor again, saddened this time as the smell that covered him would soon be gone. He handed them off to the exact same maid as last time, who was actually waiting for them as if she knew he would come back and be a mess. He thanked her and gave her several gold coins. He headed back into the house alongside Regis who had been divested of his torn leather overcoat and his torn shirt with the promise that it would be mended and laundered by morning. They were surprised when they walked into the house to see the medics who had been at the garrison before; watching over the small children who were placed on cots, mattresses and anything available that was clean and soft. They slept in piles, clinging to one another. They must have come through the tunnel Silas had mentioned.

Geralt had to force himself not to think of Kaer Morhen as they weaved throughout the sleeping children. The pull to go there was getting stronger.

When they made it to their rooms food was waiting, and their dirty clothes from the day before had been laundered, pressed, and were lying neatly folded on the bed. Geralt stripped himself to nothing and attacked the food plate for a moment, enjoying his first taste of food in over a day. Regis stripped as well then pushed Geralt to the bathroom.

“Hey, I was eating!” Geralt whined around a mouth full of food.

“Bath first, you smell like a swampy wolf.” Regis growled.

Geralt had the gall to lift his arms and give his armpits a sniff. Revulsion and a keen fondness filtered through the bond.

 _Only you._ Regis thought at him, his cheeks puffing out in frustration.

Geralt grinned and flopped down on the floor of the bathroom, allowing Regis to take the stool. He quickly heated the tub with a blast of Igni. He wasn’t planning on using it tonight. He would fall asleep from the all-encompassing heat if he entered the tub.

“Regis, can you explain this to me?” Geralt asked, unwinding the bandages around his neck and wrist. “I know I was bit, several times. Now… there is nothing. You said you would explain it.”

Regis sighed as he looked to Geralt’s neck and arm. They were healed and whole, the only thing that remained was the scars that were there before the day’s events.

“Vampires are able to heal with great speed, Geralt.” Regis said simply.

The answer caught him off guard.

“What do you mean?” Geralt asked, reaching for the soap. Annoyance and tiredness filtered through the bond. _Fledgling_.

“I meant exactly what I said, Geralt.” Regis said. Geralt was about to protest again, when Regis raised his hand and shook his head. “No, Geralt. This is not a conversation to have now. I am tired, you are tired, and both of us get unreasonably cranky when sleepy and hungry.”

Regis was right of course, but the answer sat heavy in Geralt’s brain.

Together they soaped up, washed their hair, put sweet oil in it, and made quick work of getting all the grime from the day off of them. Geralt was annoyed as mud had dried between his toes of all the pieces and parts of him. He worked at them mercilessly digging the mud out from under his toenails. Amusement filtered across the bond.

“If only people saw this part of you.” Regis grinned, watching as Geralt’s lips drew into a thin line. He had one knee bent and his foot was resting on his thigh. He was bent over at an odd angle with his head cocked; his wet hair plastered to his face and mouth. He moved to lick his lips to speak and instead drew the hair straight into his mouth.

Regis laughed as Geralt groaned in frustration and spit the offending hair out, only to have it plaster itself over the bridge of his noise and poke him in the eye. Regis fell into peals of laughter holding his stomach as Geralt swiped the offending hair behind his ear.

“The mighty White Wolf of Kaer Morhen, Butcher of Blaviken, and Kingslayer, felled by his hair.”

Geralt pulled a face, glaring up at the vampire.

“Be careful or I will impale you next.” Geralt’s threat rumbling in his voice as he went back to finish his toes.

“Is that a promise?” Geralt’s eyes snapped up and met Regis’, which were still twinkling with mirth.

Geralt huffed, his cheeks heating up. His body wanted to respond more, but he was at the tail end of his limit. This caused Regis to laugh more and the vampire finished up, rinsing himself off and went to towel off.

Geralt finally finished the job he set out to do and rinsed himself once more as Regis exited the bathroom. He popped up, grabbed a towel and dried himself off.

As he walked back into the bedroom, Regis had pulled a loose set of his pants on, his hair still damp.

“Be back in a moment.” He said. Geralt tracked him, and his thoughts, as he wandered through the house. Primarily the vampire was thinking about sleep, and his need for it to be uninterrupted. It was followed immediately by him checking on the children, looking them over one by one as they slept, without disturbing them.

Geralt had settled himself at the table with the food and was currently stuffing his face with ravenous intent. He had drunk with the commander on an empty stomach earlier, and he was feeling it. Bread, cheese, meats, fruits, butter and honey covered rolls found their way into his stomach. Watered wine was in the decanter in front of him and when he reached for it he sent a spoon, from the silverware set that had been provided, to the floor. Cursing to himself he picked up the offending utensil and set it back in its place.

Regis had finally made his way back as Geralt poured himself a glass of wine. He looked up to Regis with a mouth full of food and offered it to him as well. Regis nodded with vigor and sat down and began attacking the food as well. Between them both they ate way too much and polished off the plate. Geralt sat with a hand on his distended stomach and sighed, sleepiness washing over him.

Regis had gotten to that point where he was chewing and nodding off at the same time. Geralt grinned.

“Come on. Let’s get you to the bed.” Geralt said standing and grabbing Regis, who jumped slightly at the contact.

“I asked them to let us rest.” Regis said,rubbing at his eyes as he let Geralt lead him over to the bed.

“Good idea.” Geralt said, hoisting his naked body onto the bed. Regis stripped himself of the pants he had put on earlier and climbed up as well, sitting cross legged on the mattress.

“Here, your potion.” Regis said, handing Geralt the vial of dreamless sleep. Geralt downed it and handed it back to Regis. Regis attempted to set it down but missed and tipped the empty bottle over on the floor. He looked down, momentarily debating if it was worth the trip, but decided against it.

Geralt pulled the covers up and flopped over on his back. Regis snuggled down into them and put his head on Geralt’s chest. The last coherent memory Geralt had was him thinking how amazing it was to have Regis here with him finally. Within moments they were both asleep.

*******

Geralt woke lazily to the ringing of bells. He counted six before they stopped. He shifted and Regis shifted beside him, snuggling closer. Geralt wrapped his hands around the vampire and nuzzled his hair with his nose. He saw the vampire smile in his sleep, and he again drifted off.

When he awoke the second time he realized he had been dreaming. It was a nonsense dream full of location shifts and random feelings and sights. He groaned; he had slept long enough that the potion had metabolized and wore off. It was dark. The clock began to strike again. He counted five bells this time. They had slept over a full day. Geralt was on his stomach, his head plastered to the drool covered pillow. His leg was draped over Regis’ thigh. Regis was on his back and was snoring loudly, his mouth open. One hand was over his head, his hand entangled in his hair, the other was on his chest kneading at the fuzz there like he was petting a cat.

Geralt smiled and reached over to run his hands through the soft sideburns on the vampire’s face. The touch caused Regis to snort, and slowly the waking thoughts of the vampire began to filter in.

“Good morning Regis.” Geralt rumbled, his face half muffled by his hair and the pillow.

“Is it?” Regis asked, blinking and looking over to the window. He let his head fall back with a huff.

“Not quite, but close enough.” Geralt grumbled, letting content and restfulness flood through the bond. He shifted his thigh to allow Regis freedom of movement and the vampire instantly hissed and stretched like a cat. Geralt propped himself up on his elbows, his hair falling in front of his face and watched as the vampire languidly stretched upwards.

Geralt felt lust ricochet through him as Regis arched his back and let out a stiff moan. Gods, how he would like to bend the vampire over and watch as he made those movements for him while he filled the vampire to the brim. Regis didn’t even have a chance to react to the thought before Geralt felt shame racing through him, followed by an immediate and intense loathing for the Unseen Elder. Something pulsed deep inside him and the need to rip the vampire to pieces took over all his thoughts.

“Geralt.” Regis had reached over and brushed Geralt’s hair out of his eyes.

“I am going to kill him.” Geralt hissed, feeling his mutations key up. He saw Regis smile sadly and was buffeted by futility.

“I want to as well, but I am not sure it can be done.” Regis sighed and began tracing circles into Geralt’s tense back with his claws. Geralt felt the tension start bleeding out of him. He sighed and let his elbows give out and flopped back into the mattress face first. Regis’ thoughts were going a million miles a minute. Dulled now compared to how they were the previous night, but Geralt could feel the tension building in the vampire behind him.

“Geralt, we need to talk.”

Geralt felt his stomach drop out from under him, and a sharp cuff to the back of the head surprised him, making him yelp.

“We are mated; Geralt, something that is new, fragile, and yes can be broken.” Regis said, hissing into the man’s ear as he grabbed his hair. “But we, and I do mean ‘we’need to get out of this habit of thinking the other is abandoning us. It would take an enormous conscious effort on both our parts to sever the bond, and frankly it took over a decade to create the damned thing, at least for me. I am not going to give it up now.”

“Sorry, it’s a reflex.” Geralt grumbled into the pillow, trying to secretly not allow Regis to know that his hair being pulled at this moment was feeling better than it should have. He grumbled as he attempted to school his thoughts.

“We need to address what I said last night.” Regis stated. Geralt felt the vampire shift and his weight lifted from the bed. Geralt turned over on his back. Regis set some things on the bed table; trepidation filling the vampire’s thoughts.

“Out with it, bat.” Geralt huffed as Regis hopped back up on the bed.

“You asked why your wounds had healed, Geralt.” Regis said and straddled Geralt’s thighs. Geralt felt himself stirring to attention at the sight of Regis naked and straddling over him. It was putting him at odds with the nervousness he was feeling.

“I told you it was because you were a vampire.” Regis stated and arched his back up.

Geralt growled, confusion rolling through him as Regis’ scent washed over the room, Geralt felt his eyes blow open as lust tore through him.

“I am not a vampire.” Geralt growled, reaching his hand up and wrapping it around himself. Regis glared hungrily down at him as Geralt began to stroke his length. Geralt canted his hips upward and Regis lost his balance, falling over onto his chest. Geralt felt Regis’ nails digging into his chest and his hand was pinned against his cock.

“Do you trust me?” Regis asked, an unsaid _because what I do next will sting us both_.

Geralt grumbled as the vampire’s eyes washed over in black.

“ ‘course.” Geralt rumbled.

Searing agonizing pain ripped through, him causing him to trash upwards. Regis had him pinned, his weight seeming enormous. Geralt smelled blood, his blood.

“What the fuck did you just do?!” Geralt looked down and saw eight angry red welts that were quickly spilling over lining his chest and stomach, from collarbone to hip. He reached over and felt one with his hands. They were deep. Very deep. He hissed as he looked down and saw the layer of fatty tissue below the skin. Nausea swept over him, pain and hurt filtering through the bond.

Regis was breathing hard above him. He could feel his apology racing through the bond. Geralt felt his pulse quicken as the vampire brought his wrist up to his mouth. Geralt felt his teeth pulsing, his body flooding with the same power he had felt the night previous. Regis’ thoughts had turned erotic the second Geralt’s pheromones hit his nose. When the smell of Regis’ blood hit the air Geralt bucked, wild with need.

“Just… a taste, Geralt.” Regis purred, leaning over; his blood dripping from his wrist in rivulets and searing Geralt where they splattered amongst the blood from his wounds that was now covering his chest. Regis held his wrist above the witcher’s mouth, leaned into his chest, and grinned evilly as Geralt felt control abandon him and he felt his tongue loll out to catch what he could.

Drop by small drop of ambrosia hit his tongue, and Geralt felt himself keen with need. The drops were just a taste of what he wanted. They only served to heighten his thirst which now filled him. When Regis reached over and grabbed one of the items off the nightstand he didn’t think anything of it. He saw a flash; his eyes drawn to the object.

“Look at yourself Geralt.” Regis purred. “Look at what you are.”

Geralt startled as he looked. It was the obsidian mirror. Regis rocked his hips against Geralt bringing their erections together, but Geralt was locked on to his reflection. His eyes were red, blown open but still obviously slitted. His teeth had elongated, even the ones up front had sharp edges on them. He blinked as a drop of blood hit his lip and snorted when one hit his nose. Regis used the momentary distraction to bring his hand back to his mouth and rip it open fully. The blood flowed heavily. Geralt looked at him.

“Look in the mirror Geralt, watch yourself.” Geralt felt the blood spill over his chest and chin. He moaned when it hit his mouth. His tongue darted out and he watched himself licking his lips and licking at the blood. His eyes began to glow and his teeth pulsed. Regis moaned from above him. Geralt had enough. He lurched forward, the pain from the cuts earlier nothing but a memory, and latched onto Regis’ wrist greedily. Licking, sucking and drawing. He didn’t bite though; something deep inside him told him to stop and he released Regis’ wrist with a gasp. Regis had dropped the mirror and reached down between them.

He gathered up some of the pooled blood on Geralt’s chest, letting it drip over his fingers. Geralt felt his growl reverberating throughout the room as Geralt’s blood met Regis’ tongue. The ecstasy that swept through Regis was instantaneous and blinding. Geralt felt it roll over him and then growled in frustration as his was nowhere near. Regis came without touching himself or being touched. Just Geralt’s blood pushed him over. The idea sent a pulse of dominating power over him.

Regis didn’t wait for himself to recover. He swept his cum and Geralt’s blood onto his hand and brought it to the witcher’s mouth. Geralt was several miles past giving a damn when he took Regis’ fingers in his mouth and sucked on them. The cum was Regis in concentrated form: his musk, his scent, the taste of storms, the taste of rain. Coupled together with his own organic flavor Geralt lost himself growling around his fingers as he felt and smelled himself began to leak.

When the fingers withdrew Geralt groaned. His back arched. His body was nothing but one giant sensation of lust and want. Regis’ fingers drew slowly down his chest, he could feel the stickiness of the blood and cum as the vampire’s fingers jittered across his skin. Geralt’s world stopped when he felt Regis’ tongue find its way to his groin, licking and lapping at the precum that flowed from his tip. When the vampire’s mouth found his cock Geralt called out, his noises becoming panicked as he neared the edge. This was different than the last time. Regis’ tongue put pressure on him and his lips rolled over him like he tasted the finest of wines. Geralt howled out his pleasure; his hips bucking forwards. He came, hard and harsh. He felt every languid swallow by the vampire as he drank him down. He hissed when Regis broke contact.

“Absolutely exquisite.” Regis said, leaning up and licking at his fingers like a cat after the kill.

Geralt was panting and it was all he could do to look up at the vampire.

“Now Geralt, look down.” Regis said, rolling off of Geralt’s thighs and grabbing for one of the sheets that had fallen to the floor. Geralt winced and sat up; the pressure behind his teeth still there, but his mutations taking over and calming the blood lust. Regis wiped at Geralt’s chest, initially causing Geralt to wince, but then surprise overtook his face. He pulled the sheet away. There was blood and it had been smeared and soaked, but what Geralt didn’t have any longer were the cuts. He placed his hands tentatively on his chest and stomach and felt his elbow behind him finally give out.

He collapsed back in a huff.

“You saw it.” It was a statement, not a question. “The second you took my blood you healed.”

Geralt put his arm over his eyes and groaned.

“I am not a vampire, Regis.” Geralt said through gasps.

“You know what those beads are?” Regis snapped. “What they were?”

Geralt felt so drained, even after all the sleep all he could do was pant weakly while Regis spoke.

“They are sealing runes, Geralt.” Regis said, stepping off the bed and going over to his pack. He withdrew one of the marbles. “Vampire specific ones. This one is called ‘Root’ in your tongue. It’s meant to bind a vampire to one single thing. I don’t know of it being used, but I know of the root power being manifested. The Unseen Elder uses it. It’s his talent. He doesn’t need a rune to bind you to a spot.”

“Regis, I am not a vampire. I am a witcher.” Geralt huffed, finally getting in enough air to speak. “I taste human to you, with spice. I know. I can feel how I taste to you as you draw.This is not the first time a witcher in his prime has had powers manifest beyond the scope of what was originally intended.” Geralt said, hissing and finally sitting up. He could feel Regis drawing in on himself as he tried to understand everything.

“But her blood.” Regis said, looking up to Geralt, his brows drawn. “You discarded me for her blood.”

Geralt suddenly felt the change on him again as he imagined the taste of the mage. He felt shame crawl through him as he groaned. Her blood, he wanted more. He needed more. He felt starved. Starved and drained. Regis suddenly looked sheepish and crawled into Geralt’s lap.

“Look Geralt. I know what you are going through because I experience it on a daily basis.” Regis said, cupping Geralt’s face and examining his now long again fangs and red slitted eyes.

“Regis, I… I can’t deny it.” Geralt said his hands shakily resting on his shoulders. “This feeling, the one that is crushing me right now. It has haunted me all my life. I didn’t have a name for it, or a cause for it. I didn’t understand what would fix it. Now I do. Gods Regis, what do I do?”

“First this.” Regis craned his neck and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s head. “Drink, Geralt.”

Geralt didn’t have to be told twice. He knew if he fought it he would just feel starved, and Geralt had starved enough throughout his life to not want to face it if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. He latched on and felt his teeth puncture through the flesh, and felt the pressure of what he knew for certain was poison, ease behind his teeth. He groaned into the feeling as he drew slowly.

“This is what the species used to do to sustain themselves in hard times.” Regis whispered, holding Geralt’s head firmly against his neck. “We could trick our bodies into thinking we had replaced what was lost by sharing. And in some cases, when one of the vampires managed to glut himself on pray, he would share him or herself amongst blood kin, to help replenish the tribe.”

Geralt felt himself becoming morose as his thirst was slackened. He lifted off of Regis when the pressure from the vampire’s hands ebbed. He licked at the wound again by instinct, and watched as it closed.

“When did you first notice the feeling, Geralt?” Regis asked not pulling away but instead embracing Geralt, and holding him close.

Geralt’s eyes widened as memory took over.

It was the year Kaer Morhen was sacked. An early winter storm had approached and had trapped many of the late straggling witchers in the Ard Carraigh valley. The blows came so quick and so unexpectedly that the witchers that were struck down in the valley were dispatched without ever raising word that there was trouble brewing. Geralt and Eskel had been traveling together, as they had when they first set out. Two was better than one, and with two of them they were able to take more contracts and complete them with a dizzying array of success. This past summer had been lucrative, and Geralt and the brown haired witcher with the baby smooth face that traveled with him were giddy to bring home the small gifts they had for the mid-winter feast. They were currently stuck in Ban Ard, in the small town where the workers that supported the mages that trained there lived.

The whole of the world was buckled down with trepidation about the turn of the century. It was 1199. There had been an upswing in monster attacks, and an upswing in people viewing witchers as ill omens. Geralt and Eskel were still young, still just out of their apprenticeships. They were journeymen now as they had survived the first five years on the path. A milestone not many reached, considering the numbers they started out with.

They were drinking mead and making merry with the locals; they had dropped a bit of coin for a good mood, and the locals, liking free mead, were disinclined to reject their invitation. Things seemed good. Geralt and Eskel looked at each other when they felt their amulets tug and pull towards Kaer Morhen. A feeling of apprehension filled them as the night wore on. The call came in the middle of the revelry during the fall blizzard. Geralt and Eskel quickly excused themselves. Vesemir was in a panic. He said all were dead and to recall back to the keep but keep away from the peasants’ path, as it was overrun. Geralt didn’t understand, Eskel didn’t understand. There was only an acknowledgement from two other groups of people. Coën, and Lambert, who was currently apprenticing under Everard; all three of whom were too far away to winter in Kaer Morhen, and a cursed word from Berengar, who was stuck in Rivia.

When Geralt and Eskel reached the Blue Mountains they took one of the many alternate paths that took them high above the peasants’ path in the valley. They didn’t stop, even when they saw the hordes of people that were attempting to shelter from the blizzard. A blizzard Geralt and Eskel realized was magically created, and had all the hallmarks of Iongram’s work. When they arrived at Kaer Morhen the gate had been pulled off its hinges, and bodies were layingeverywhere their dead eyes unblinking. Geralt could feel the apprehension hit him. Him and Eskel stumbled through the courtyard. Thick snow barred their path.

There were far more bodies of the peasantsthan there were witchers, but the amount of bodies was staggering. No one had even attempted to clean up. Geralt reached out, desperately hoping to find someone, _anyone_. He felt two in the main hall. Eskel was doing the same and the despondent look he gave Geralt said everything Geralt needed to know. With their swords drawn, steel for monsters, they opened the door to the main hall. It was just as cold in here as it had been outside. It was dark, cold.

Iongram’s body stood locked in his spell. Geralt knew the look, it was to be his last. A last ditch effort to protect. The spell would eat him up from the inside, there was no breaking it. It glowed and cast a light on the bodies. There were close to fifty witchers at the keep; there were almost two hundred children awaiting to attempt to survive the trials. The children had been gathered here and felled by a spell. A spell Iongram had attempted to negate, but failed to do so.

Geralt felt his knees buckle and pain ran through him. He was stunned into dumbness. A rasping cough and a groan alerted Eskel to another person still alive. It was Vesemir.

“T… They killed them.” Vesemir sounded broken. Geralt felt a buzz filling his ears. “They killed all of them, I am a coward, I hid… in the water by the tower. I hid and pretended to be dead till they passed. I didn’t fight. I let them die.”

Geralt let those words wash over him and the power hit him. The first time he could remember it in detail. It washed over him with such a force that it shook the walls. He screamed.

“I WILL KILL EVERY LAST ONE!” Geralt jumped up and with a speed that was beyond human he ripped the doors from the front of Kaer Morhen keep and blasted out into the snow. He vaguely heard Eskel calling after him and Vesemir coughing again. And then he was gone.

The blizzard was still going in full. Geralt knew where they were, knew by the quickly filling path; the bodies that were tossed aside as they fell to their injuries. Geralt caught up quickly, red burning in him. There was a mage being pulled behind a cart as the throng moved slowly through the snow; not one that Geralt recognized. Pamphlets littered the walkway the closer he got. He hissed, and then he howled. He was on top of them in moments.

He remembered only the first several kills before he found himself in a red haze. The only thing that broke through it was screams.

“The White Wolf of Kaer Morhen, a curse on us all!”

  
“The White Wolf! He brings down the frosts, the end is near!”

When Eskel managed to track him down a few hours later he sat on top of a pile of bodies, with the one before him split open. His mind had come back but the only thing running through it was ‘Eat those that lay waste’. Its arms had been severed, as had its legs. Eskel knew who it was immediately. It was the mage that had orchestrated the attacks. He had a salamander brooch pinned to his front and Vesemir had described him in detail. Eskel couldn’t believe his eyes as Geralt feasted on the innards of the man, his teeth sharp, claws out.

“Easy does it, buddy.” Eskel said as Geralt stiffened when he approached.

Geralt spit out the bloody line of entrails he’d been eating and regarded Eskel.

“Come on Geralt, I am not gonna hurt you, it’s me, your pal.” Eskel said, crouching down. Geralt approached on all fours, and the effect was disconcerting. He sniffed, then his eyes widened.

“Es…Eskel?” Geralt said, approaching the other witcher. He watched Eskel’s shoulders sag, and felt a shiver run through his form.

“They killed them, killed them all.” Geralt said and began to shake. “Every last one of them. I tried, I tried to get them all, but I couldn’t; there were too many. But no more, they won’t come any more.”

“Sshhhhhh, it will be ok.” He felt Eskel’s head against his. “We will make it through this, we always have. You and me.”

Geralt pulled away, about to bolt again when Eskel covered his nose and mouth with a rag drenched in ether. He struggled for a few moments, but Eskel had locked them both down with a powerful Yrden. His world went dark and the pain went away.

Geralt came out of the memory, shaking. The sun had begun to rise and there were voices beyond the walls. Regis was clinging to him, running his hand through Geralt’s white hair.

Geralt looked up and felt tears in his eyes.

“I believe this is the second time I have seen you cry.” Regis said, his own voice broken.

Geralt blinked away the liquid and let out a shaky huff.

Regis wiped at the tears with his fingers, a sad smile across his face. Geralt huffed a laugh and just breathed. Breathed in the scent of his vampire, the smell of rain. They sat like that for several minutes before Regis’ buzzing brain finally released the tirade he was organizing.

“Seeing that as I did, Geralt, I am hard pressed to believe it is just vampiric mutagens.” Regis said, pulling back and regarded the still bedraggled and blood covered witcher. His skin stuck uncomfortably to Geralt’s, creating a peeling feeling neither of them were fond of. He shuddered and continued onwards.

“They were calling you the White Wolf. There is another creature that partakes in blood and bodyparts.” Regis trembled. “You know which one I am speaking of, I am not giving voice to it.”

Geralt felt himself grinning.

“And let me add another thing into the mix.” Geralt said, stroking Regis’ cheek. “I am not immortal.”

He felt Regis tense up and shudder.

“If I were, and my ability to heal extended beyond the point where I am ingesting blood, then I would not be traveling the same path I am.” Geralt sighed as he felt Regis’ disappointment.

“Well, that settles that then.” Regis sneered looking away. “You have all of the banes of being a vampire and none of the boons.”

“Do you want me to be a vampire?” Geralt asked, looking the vampire in the eyes.

The question sent Regis into another cascade of thoughts. The vampire’s brow furrowed, and Geralt felt himself smiling despite himself.

“No.” Regis said finally and firmly. “I would not. I want you as a whole, not just an idea, or a passing fancy. I know time will change us, it always does. But I hope that time will allow us to change as a unit. However, imagining the next millennia without you… it just…”

Geralt reached up and kissed him softly. Regis hummed into the kiss.

A sharp knock at the door brought them both back to the reality of their situation.

“We heard yelling in there, master Regis.” Silas’ voice floated through the door. “Are you ok? Is master Geralt ok?”

“Well, not exactly.” Regis said, clambering off of Geralt and looking at himself and the man. They were both caked in dry blood, and blood covered the top sheets of the bed and part of the comforter. It looked like they had slaughtered a deer within the sheets.

“Geralt ripped his stitches?” Regis’ voice took on the tone of a question. He looked over at Geralt who looked just as alarmed as he was and shrugged. “Left a mess, I will get the sheets stripped off the bed and in a pile at least.”

“Do you need assistance?” Silas asked.

“No, no, have it handled – barber surgeon and all that.” Regis said, quickly motioning for Geralt to get off the bed. He ripped off the sheets and the blood had soaked through to the mattress. Regis groaned audibly.

“It got on the bed.” Regis huffed, running his fingers over the stain… a stain that looked suspiciously like an outline of a butt and back with a set of knees and feet. Geralt got a good look and began laughing. He was laughing so hard he had to lean against the wall, which caused a bloody hand print.

“So help me gods ,Geralt, if you rip your stiches again I will end you.” Regis spat, trying very hard not to panic.

“Don’t worry about the bed.” Silas said. “Small price to pay, and don’t worry about any mess. We can handle it later.”

“Thanks.” Geralt rumbled laughing through the door. “And… Ha ha… Sorry.”

“No worries, master witcher.” Silas said. “Breakfast is in the main room, come when you are ready.”

  
Regis and Geralt quickly rewashed and packed. The clock had just struck seven bells and the morning was starting early.

Geralt wanted to be out of Dillingen by mid-morning and well on their way. He was done with this place. However he still had one thing left to do to complete his tasks. As they walked out of the room, kids were all around. Geralt felt Regis warm to them as they began to chatter at him and ask questions. Geralt quickly gathered all the belongings he and Regis had brought in and strapped them to the horses.

When he returned, the smell of food was overwhelming and both he and Regis dug in with wild abandon. By some miracle there was blood sausage. The prospect of the dish drove Geralt and Regis just about out of their minds. The kids looked at them funny, but they insisted it tasted amazing. Geralt was still attempting to deal with the fact that he actively was acknowledging his craving for blood. Something he realized he had been hiding for years by actively ingesting raw meat from hunting kills while he was cooking them.

When they had finished, Regis was still chatting animatedly to the children, telling them of their misadventures of yore. Geralt was listening in, completely satisfied. When a telltale tick of thirst came across the bond, Geralt paused. When it became a raging torrent Geralt sat up straight and looked to Regis. Regis didn’t look like anything was different. He still spoke animatedly with the others, not showing any signs, no lingering looks or giving any hints as to his wants.

He did however give Geralt a rather meaningful look. One that acknowledged what was happening, but at the same time, let Geralt know it had always been happening. Geralt felt himself falling into conversation with the children just as Regis had. There was going to be a long recovery process for these kids. They were still animatedly talking about the vampires as if they were friends. Geralt knew then why they had been attracted to Regis on an instinctual level. He was one. All of the children had been marked. Not a single one was without scars from fangs. Regis was higher on the chain than most of the others so they flocked to him as a leader. Geralt packed his observations away for another day as Silas came in from outside, and angry voices could be heard.

“They are insisting they go today.” Silas said, looking at Geralt. “They want to raid and raze the old orphanage. I have held them off as long as I could; I knew you would want to go.”

Geralt stood up and looked to Regis who had to disentangle himself from some of the kids. Regis nodded as well.

Geralt and Regis joined the throng of men and they took point. The group accrued more and more people till practically the whole town had turned up in front of the orphanage. The crowds’ blood was up and Geralt and Regis stood back as the men hacked at the fence with axes, pitchforks and hands. When the fence fell the piercing cry of a botchling froze the crowd in place.

Geralt stepped forward and did what he was made to do. This time there were only three botchlings, four necrophages, and one specter. They would keep appearing and re-appearing till the spirits got bored, or the bodies were disposed of. Now that Geralt was fully rested, and not on his last legs, the fight went much smoother than the first time around. He made quick work of the necrophages by locking them in place with a well-timed Yrden. He dispatched one of the botchlings when it found itself exploded by his Quen. The pieces of it littered the crowd, causing a minor panic. By the time Geralt was done and swiped his sword though the specter, crowd had took to cheering.

It just made Geralt feel more numb.

When he stilled and the men swooped in to clear the bodies, the crowd got quiet. Regis had approached him and Geralt, in a rare moment of guardedness, looked at Regis with sadness in his eyes.

“Come, let’s go.” Regis said, making Geralt bite his lip and turn towards the entrance of the old orphanage.

When he got inside the sunlight trickled through the beams and holes in the roof. It smelled of old decay and mold. He found the small corpse of the girl that had broken him before right where he’d left her. Her pale blond hair caught the light as it filtered through the dust. Her dry skin patched with mold. Her eyes dried and sunken, and her arms contorted in rigor from where she was left to decay. He kneeled down and scooped her up. When he stood her cradled her in his arms.

“I told you I would be back.” Geralt said as some of the men filtered and looked around. “You were not forgotten. I destroyed those that destroyed you, and I will finish the job when I get back to Beauclair. You will be avenged. Rest easy, they will care for you from here.”

He turned and looked at one of the men who had tears in his eyes and brushed past him with the small corpse. A hush passed through the crowd as Geralt walked out of the building with the first corpse and kneeled to set it in the first true sunlight she had seen in over six months. He brushed her hair and arranged her ribbon so it was displayed. His heart ached as her dress tried to turn to dust. He tried to stand but he couldn’t. She looked just like Ciri. Regis was there with him, feeling his grief.

He stayed there and kneeled for a few minutes, just allowing himself to feel and acknowledge the grief. Soon the men began to come over, placing more and more bodies, some more intact than others side by side. Geralt took that as his cue to stand. Regis squeezed his shoulder as he found his way to a shady overhang to get control of his emotions before they left. The lessened proximity helped as Regis and him watched the men work from the shade.

He knew what would happen now. The bodies would be laid out. The coroner would mark cause of death, though Geralt himself could pinpoint the cause of every single one. Then families would be allowed through to try and identify the dead. Tents would be put up to shield them from the rain for a few weeks. Then their effects would be taken, bagged, tagged, and stored at the mortuary for several years before either being gone through and re-purposed, or sold. All the bodies that were not claimed and buried would be burned in a giant pyre.

He heard Silas approach them as they stood, silently watching.

“I am glad to have caught you before you left.” Silas said. “The city got together and got you this.”

Silas held out a heavy bag of coin.

Geralt looked at him, the slits of his eyes narrowing.

“I wasn’t doing this for coin from you.” Geralt said matter-of-factly. “I did it because I have been commissioned by Beauclair to look into it. This is one small piece of a large puzzle I am working on. I require nothing.”

“I would insist that you take it, it’s the least we can do.” Silas pushed the pouch forwards into Geralt’s chest. “And if you don’t take it now, I will run ahead and tie it to Roach.”

Geralt felt himself grinning.

“She’ll bite you.” Geralt grinned.

“Then I will have a horse bitten arse and a clear conscience.” Silas smiled. Geralt chuckled and Regis laughed. Guilt flooded the bond as Regis put his hand over his mouth and shrunk back.

“Do not mind yourself,master Regis.” Silas said clapping the vampire on the back and smiling sadly. “Humor is the only thing that carries us through these situations. Before this day is over, many who are here will laugh. If it weren’t for laughter we would lose ourselves to grief.”

Regis smiled sadly and looked to Geralt. Geralt nodded.

“It was, well I won’t say it was a pleasure, but Dillingen is in good hands now.” Geralt said, holding out his hand. Silas took it and firmly shook it. “I look forward to seeing it in its prime.”

“Oh you will, Sir Geralt, you will.” Silas then reached over and embraced Regis. Regis stiffened as the man came into contact with him; instantly Geralt knew why that little tick happened every time someone hugged him now too. The smell of the man and the proximity flooded the vampire with the need to bite, to feed. It always took him just a moment to figure out if he was ok hugging back or if he should push away. Regis embraced the man and patted him on the shoulder.

“Thank you, Regis. The tents will be set up at my house till we can make sure the epidemic is handled.” Silas said, pulling away. “You two have saved us. I packed your saddlebags full of food and some wine. For me personally you have opened some doors to ideas I had never considered before now. Hopefully you come back to visit soon. And never, never shall anyone mistreat a witcher. You have opened my eyes, White Wolf.”

Geralt felt himself stiffen and nodded, and Regis smiled though he knew Geralt’s discomfort now. Geralt called to Regis wordlessly to get him to follow him. He wanted out of here now. His job was done, and he wanted to put as many miles between this place and himself as possible. When they arrived at the horses people waved and smiled at them. Geralt was focused on getting out when his eyes landed on someone. Someone familiar. It was the man that was pleading to him on the docks. He was happily leading a little girl away from the medical tents; a small bandage on his hip visible because his shirt was scrunched up as the little girl lead him away, chattering a million miles a minute. Geralt felt his heart warm and he hauled himself up on Roach.

“See that, Regis.” Geralt said, pointing as the man who was hunched over and laughing got pulled through the square by the small girl. Regis’ eyes focused on the man and smiled.

“That is why I do what I do. Moments like that make all this shit, every last bit of it, worth it.” Geralt said. “That was the man that approached me at the docks, and that’s his daughter, now safe and sound. As it should be.”

“As it should be.” Regis nodded firmly, his face resolute as he pulled himself up on Vlad. “Shall we?”

“Let’s.” Geralt said, and the two of them trotted out of the east gate, keeping the north bank of the Yaruga to their right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloodplay time Ha! And… I had to rewrite this whole entire damned chapter because my laptop decided to spaz, and it deepstate deleted my main file. Lucky me I backed it up the day previous, but holy shit on a sandwich it made my butthole pucker. SAVE MULTIPULE LOCATIONS you will thank me for this later. 
> 
> Can’t wait to get to the meat of the mystery HAHHAHAH still a ways off, but I see it poking it’s head over the horizon.
> 
> Sad times, but a good conclusion methinks! Let’s go onward with the rest. Back to Beauclair, back to CorvoBianco! There are shenanigans afoot. Big ones! Hehehhehehehehe. Lots more sex incoming too for all you pervyperves out there like I am. It’ll taper on and off throughout, but these two are at the beginning of their very new sexual relationship. Something Geralt (at least in my versions) hasn’t partaken in for nearly 6 years, minus the occasional whore. Chapter finished November 4th 2018.


	27. Inanition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You need to drink, Geralt.” Regis said, looking at the corpses. “If you don’t your bloodlust could get to the point where you falter in public. I would hate to see what would happen if it did.”
> 
> Regis looked far away for a moment. A memory was pushing at the edges of Geralt’s consciousness. Geralt stood there for a moment and glanced at Regis, his heart wrenching painfully.
> 
> “You say that, yet you deny yourself.” Geralt exhaled.
> 
> Regis looked at him, hesitation running through the bond. Hesitation and new resolve.
> 
> “Geralt, if I am to be perfectly frank with you, what I have been doing for the past century is not healthy.” Regis admitted, shuddering as he gave voice to one of the many denials he had built around himself.
> 
> ********

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!
> 
>  
> 
> **Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!**
> 
>  
> 
> Ok big notes this chapter
> 
> Drunk fucking  
> vague mentions of alcohol as lube... (do not try this you will die)  
> Nightmare  
> mentions of torture  
> Cannon typical violence
> 
>  **BIG WARNING**  
>  Eating Disorder  
> Anorexia
> 
> ******** 
> 
> Bulimia and descriptions of such.

Geralt was drunk. Very, very drunk. And he was currently being ploughed from behind by a vampire, who was also very drunk. The movements were as sloppy as they were agonizing. Geralt was bent over an old gravestone, his ass in the air his cock chafing painfully on the old marble. He didn’t give a shit. It felt too good. He felt another pour of wine on his backside as Regis wobbled. Then a thrust that made him arch his back. The vampire grumbled to himself as he adjusted his angle. He felt another heated rush of alcohol push through his system as Regis thrust, taking a long drag on the bottle as he did so.

His claws on one hand were digging into Geralt’s hip, holding the vampire steady and upright as he thrust. Geralt felt the burn building as he called into the night, vaguely annoying the horses who were trying to rest after the long day’s trek. He felt the bottle rest sideways on his hip, the glass cool against his heated skin. He felt sinful, decadent. And every move Regis made at this point drove him along the razor’s edge. He felt his toes cramping and his body begin to shudder. Regis grabbed at his hair and pulled it. The pain making its way through his drunk haze and causing him to whimper.

“That’s it… That’s it. Cum for me.” Regis pushed in again, hitting Geralt’s prostate. His speed increased and Geralt felt himself pushing against the friction.

“Nnngngg, Regis… Gods, fill me.” Geralt huffed, pulling against Regis’ hand in his hair. When Geralt heard the bottle shatter and felt the vampire’s hand around his cock, he was lost. “Fuck… Fuck Regis… I’m… I’m…”

His whole body tensed up, his back bowing as his voice echoed thought the night. Breath left him. Orgasm rolled through him from his calves to his shoulders. It was deep, drunk, unhinged. His head was tugged backwards and Regis’ other hand found his hip again.

“Look at that mess you made.” Regis hissed. “Greedy little sl… ugh.”

Geralt felt himself arching back into the vampire as Regis called out, wrenching Geralt’s hair back. Geralt rocked his hips,sheathing the vampire and milking every last drop he could get from him. Yes he _was_ a slut. He was dirty, sticky and _full_. He wanted to go again, and again, till he felt as if he could burst. He wanted to feel Regis running between his legs. The alcohol however had taken its toll at least on Regis.

Regis grunted and let go of Geralt’s hair, which as it turned out was a mistake. He stumbled backwards, tripping over a stone, and landed ass first on the blanket Geralt had laid out earlier tipping a plate of food over onto the blanket with a loud clatter. The food then came to rest right at Regis’ hip.

“ Y’ok?” Geralt slurred, looking back at the vampire and trying to gather enough coordination to stand without stepping on glass from the shattered bottle.

“Mmmmm.” Regis laid back and scratched at himself lazily. “Never better Geralt, never better.”

Geralt got at least somewhat control over his limbs and avoided the glass. He idly counted the bottles on the way back over. Three, the one that shattered, and half of Regis’ moonshine beforehand. _Yup, good and ploughed._ He flopped down next to Regis and looked at the vampire, whose mood had brightened in the face of the alcohol. He ran his hands through the hair on the vampire’s chest before reaching over the vampire’s hip and grabbing whatever food had spilled.

Geralt was having trouble focusing. The thing he’d grabbed looked vaguely meaty. He popped it into his mouth and smiled, chewing. Definitely meaty, and rich, and decadent, just like this night. His cares were a million miles away, and his mate was beside him smiling happily to himself; his thoughts a bright haze of drunkenness and contentment. Geralt felt as he often did when he was drunk, and a smile crossed his lips. He began to sing.

 _“With anhonesht old friend, and a merry old song…”_ Regis turned to him, eyeing him as Geralt’s eyes lit up. _“And a flashk of old port, let me sit the night long.”_

Regis began to laugh, he knew the verse.

 _“And laugh at those who repine, that they must shwig porter…”_ Geralt licked his lips and raised his brows. _“While I can drink wine.”_

Geralt’s gravelly voice was off key and low, but the smile Regis gave while he laughed was enough to sustain Geralt.

“Your smile is so nice Regis.” Geralt said clumsily, stroking at the vampire’s cheek as Regis looked over at him, grinning. “I love all your pointy teeth.”

“I will smile only for you then, Geralt.” Regis said, grinning and stretching. Geralt yawned.

“Come on, old bat,” Geralt said, hefting himself upwards and tottering only momentarily before finding his footing. “Gotta get inside. We fall asleep out here we’re likely to get beaten half to death by elves.”

“No one’s been here in centuries.” Regis groused, sitting up. “Other than in passing of course, seeing as the road is… well, right _there_.”

Geralt offered his hand to the vampire and Regis quickly took it and hefted himself up. Geralt grabbed him by the shoulder and the two of them stumbled forward into the small home. Regis had already lit the small burner inside, so it was cozy feeling. Without preamble Regis threw himself on the lumpy old bed and sighed. Geralt wedged himself next to the vampire and sighed contentedly. This is how life was meant to be: simple, drunk moments, with friends, or more than friends.

“Regis.” Geralt said, just as the vampire was nodding off.

“Yes Geralt?” The answer was exasperated. And tired, and still drunk.

“I love you Regis.” Geralt nuzzled into the vampire’s hair.

“I love you too Geralt.” Geralt felt his heart soar. And his giddy thoughts shuffled him off to sleep.

********

He knew immediately that he had forgotten to take the potion when he found himself strapped down to the table again. This time however… this time was different. He felt more in control somehow. He felt the pain ripping through him, but knew it was a dream and separated himself from the scene, willing it to slow. He looked around now, somehow separate from his body, but somehow still intact. He felt the dream’s edges wavering, but he gripped on.

He looked around as they moved around him slowly. He knew Vesemir, and the elf Iongram. Beside Iongram was a human mage, an apprentice; the human’s knife digging into the elf’s shoulder. Geralt balked and almost woke up but held himself, watching as the elf’s mouth moved and his fingers jumped. He realized the elf was casting signs with his hands alongside the spell, balancing and counteracting whatever was happening to him.

He looked to Vesemir. The dream had gone quiet as it continued through the motions. He gave his affirmation to continue, his mouth working again without his permission. Geralt looked above his head; he saw the elf yell something and then – a tug on his veins. His blood slowly crept up the line and Geralt focused. He looked at the shadows around the device his blood was flowing to and squinted. Cat eyes, concerned and terribly afraid ,stared back. Suddenly the shadows coalesced and he could see them. He didn’t count, but they were witchers. Witchers he recognized, with scars and harsh faces. Every last one of them only had silver swords.

Geralt forced himself to re-focus on the line. That’s what was important. He watched as his blood hit the container filled with dark fluid, and it began to slowly bubble, then turn white. Geralt gasped, but forced his focus on it. The elf yelled “ _NOW_ ” and the process began to speed up. Geralt watched as the fluid traveled downwards; the line jittering and shaking with the effort.

He felt the panic began to build as it crept closer. Finally it exploded into him, and Geralt felt the power. The same familiar power he had been calling on. Deep, dark. Something else stuck. Revenge. He wanted revenge. Needed it more than anything. The power ripped through him and a voice called to him. A voice that wasn’t there before. “Hold on child, when the time is right… hold _on_.” Geralt felt overcome with the power and hunger, and snapped himself awake.

Regis was shaking his shoulders and he himself was in a cold sweat. He hadn’t transformed, but he felt shaky, the residuals of the new version of events cutting him to the quick.

“Geralt, wake up!” Regis said, panic flowing over the bond. “Come on Geralt. Come back to me.”

Geralt felt himself cough and took a breath. He hadn’t been breathing. Oxygen flooded his lungs with a deep gasp. The relief that flooded through the bond was like a river. Geralt felt that the other vampire in their pack was awake and distressed as well. Regis sobbed and collapsed on top of him; clinging to him and shaking. Geralt tried to catch his breath.

“W…what happened?” Geralt rasped, his throat feeling raw and dry.

“You had a seizure.” Regis said, gripping onto his shoulders. Geralt could feel tears hitting his neck where the vampire’s face was buried.

“I did?” Geralt felt a headache coming on.

“It was exactly like after the resonance, Geralt.” Regis said, shuttering and getting control of his sobs. “To the letter, only this time…”

Geralt began stroking circles on Regis’ back. A wave of fury came racing through Regis’ side of the bond, but it wasn’t his. Geralt reached out to Dettlaff. All he could feel from his end was discontent and discomfort. Geralt tried to reach out to the other vampire and send comfort, but he was met with a harsh shutting of the bond. Geralt felt anger building.

“Only this time I was connected and I could feel it. I could feel your heart stop, your breath stop.” Regis said, looking up to Geralt. Geralt was fully distracted by the rage that was flooding through Regis’ end of the bond. Dettlaff was pissed. The echoes of rage, hurt, confusion, and scolding buffeted him through a filter of Regis, who was trying to justify the other vampire’s reactions.

“Tell him to calm the fuck down.” Geralt said, feeling himself sitting up. “I can’t think with all his senseless raging. What the hell is he angry for. He shut me out!”

Regis looked confused for a moment before his eyes widened.

“You can feel him through me?” Regis asked, the distraction pulling him out of his loop of fear.

“Yes, he is angry, irrationally so.” Geralt hissed. Regis sat up.

“This is his normal anger, Geralt.” Regis chuckled shakily. “He can’t temper it like I can.”

“Why is he angry?!” Geralt coughed in exasperation, his lungs still burning. “Did he fall off the ceiling?!”

Regis’ eyes went wide before he started to laugh. Geralt felt a wave of dizziness pass over him as his body’s systems began to come back to normal. Dettlaff was now sending confusion and anger through Regis, the scolding still there.

“Gods Geralt…” Regis said, the laughter turning into another sob. Geralt pushed forward and grabbed Regis, kissing him. Regis only returned it for a moment before he broke away, sobbing, and just clung to Geralt.

“I was never in any danger.” Geralt sighed, though his lungs said otherwise.

Geralt could feel Regis pushing back at Dettlaff, annoyance and panic and anger of his own filtering through. Geralt rubbed circles on the vampire’s back and he could feel Dettlaff pulsing with indignation. It was weird feeling it second hand. Like glancing at it through a cloudy window. Geralt pursed his lips then focused. He pummeled Regis with the feeling of safety, comfort, love, wellness, and most of all protectiveness. Then for good measure he pulsed the protectiveness again, strong as he could manage, and wrapped it in a possessive ‘ ** _Mine!’_**. Regis gasped as the emotions hit him, then Dettlaff’s end of the bond went quiet.

“Geralt….” Regis shuddered, looking up at the witcher and rubbing at his eyes. Dettlaff’s end of the bond winked back open to Geralt, who sighed and felt himself relax at the darker vampire’s presence again. Discomfort roiled through. Through the window of Regis’ mind Geralt could feel him tentatively pulsing back. The emotion was unfamiliar to Geralt. He couldn’t read it, didn’t have a name for it.

“He is asking what happened, why we are connected so strongly.” Regis said, catching Geralt’s confusion. “Specifically he is asking what type of love it is as we have many. I awoke him in a panic. He can’t do anything, and he could feel me. He was asleep when we formed the bond, he had no idea it happened. He had been asleep up till this point.”

Geralt felt Regis pulse back something Geralt thought he recognized, but it was layered in an unfamiliar layout. It was love, but more? Kinship maybe?Followed by possession. Geralt could feel Dettlaff’s discomfort again, this time he felt the familiar twang that haunted Regis constantly. _Thirst_.

“Regis, he needs to drink.” Geralt said.

“He does, yes.” Regis said simply. “He doesn’t want to.”

“Then tell him to go back to sleep. We will be back in Beauclair in a few days time, and you and he can meet face to face.” Geralt said, annoyed. He felt his end of the bond roiling with discomfort. This was not the way he had wanted to wake up after a night of heavy drinking.

“You can’t dictate to him what to do any more than I can.” Regis scoffed, sitting up. “He isn’t a child Geralt.”

 _Oh but he is. A big giant child, one who throws tantrums and ruins cities in the process._ Geralt couldn’t stop the thought. Regis picked it up and frowned.

He felt Regis’ end of the bond switch moods, and pulsed back to the vampire. _Sleep, childishness, all good, safe, protected, ok._

“Sorry, I…” Geralt bit his tongue as Regis looked at him. “No, not sorry, that’s what I feel. I don’t know Dettlaff, not yet. I want to know him, but all I know of him was our small talk when we met with Orianna, and our little snippets of conversation throughout trying to track Syanna down. I don’t have a good picture of him, and the one I do have is of him literally tearing up a city for someone who was only _technically_ a part of his pack.”

Regis looked at him, his eyes wide with surprise.

“How did you know that?” Regis asked as Dettlaff sent a roiling wave of confusion and frustration back.

“You told me, sorta.” Geralt said frowning. “You said she was a part of his pack.”

“His only member actually, for a time.” Regis hissed. “While he was trying to help me recover, which was a process and a half, he needed an outlet. She apparently followed him when he went to pawn a candle stick. She thought she knew what he was because Dettlaff was pawning a silver candelabra and had it wrapped in a rag.”

“I thought higher vampires weren’t affected by silver?” Geralt huffed.

“They aren’t, not like our lesser kin. And I know I have gone over this already with you twice now.” Regis said, puffing his lips out. “Dettlaff has an allergy to it. Won’t burn him, but if he touches it with his bare hands he’ll have a reaction not unlike when Dandelion gets himself into poison ivy. Anyway, he was pawning it to pay for some food for himself to satiate himself till he could hunt again and she cornered him. You know the rest.”

“So she was never a part of your pack with him?” Geralt asked.

“Good heavens no!” Regis scoffed. “He was only with her for a year when she disappeared. He had asked her to form a blood bond with him. She had wanted to see him kill. Apparently he took it as an invitation to open himself up to her completely. When she saw his power, she balked. Dettlaff is a strange one even amongst our kind. His exterior, unless he is enraged, is nearly unreadable unless you have been around him long enough to notice the subtle ways he expresses himself. Underneath the surface he bounces around from one extreme to the next, never quite sure how to feel, or how much to feel. The results are intense and take a bit of getting used to. When he showed his passion to Syanna it was too much for her.”

“How did she break off the bond with him?” Geralt asked, confused now.

“She didn’t, actually.” Regis scoffed, sending annoyance back to Dettlaff and telling him to sleep again. “We can form many pack bonds at once. It’s rarely done because often times one pack will come at another’s throat for one reason or another. Dettlaff knew how to initiate the pack bond, but he had no idea how to sever it. She instead cut him off from her end and learned to watch him through it. That’s why she was able to play him like a fiddle.”

“But it’s only a pack bond.” Geralt said, confusion filling him to the brim.

“And she was a child of the black sun, something that has connotations across species.” Regis said. “Her magical manipulation of people and their inner workings were second to none. She was able to manipulate the bond to her own ends.”

He felt Dettlaff calming a bit, but the vampire was still confused, so Geralt sent comfort over the bond. Dettlaff tentatively sent it back to Geralt as well, though there was a new trepidation in it.

Geralt and Regis stilled, both of them fully focused on the other vampire. Geralt through his half view through Regis and his own pack bond. When he felt Dettlaff drifting back off again both Regis and himself sighed.

“Now.” Regis said, turning his focus completely back to Geralt. “What happened?”

“Had the dream again.” Geralt said, shifting and sliding Regis off his lap. His leg had fallen asleep and the pins and needles were driving him up the wall.

“We forgot the potion last night.” Regis’ eyes were wide.

“Was a good thing.” Geralt swung his dead leg over onto the floor.

“How, how was what we just experienced a _good_ thing?!” Regis practically shouted. Geralt eyed him and pursed his lips.

“Let me talk.” Geralt rumbled. Regis shifted himself so he was sitting cross legged with his hands on his thighs.

“It was different this time; I was in control.” Geralt’s voice was firm. Regis breathed in to speak again and Geralt held up his hand. “I got to see more things, more than I have in the past. Same thing: strapped to Sad Albert, but I saw more. Iongram was there. He was the mage that took over from Alzur after he died in Kovir during a failed experiment. Ironically it was that failed experiment that lead to me, sorta. Iongram was practically a sage in everything but name, he is the one that pushed for the school of the cat to be made. Anyway, getting away from myself… He was there, as was Bartholomew, his understudy.” Geralt said, letting the pictures of the dream float by in his mind’s eye. “Bartholomew was digging a blade into his shoulder as he worked, and I saw him casting signs alongside the magic that was being used to manipulate me. It was odd. I had never seen any of the mages need that before.”

Regis began frowning as he listened.

“The biggest new thing was that I saw clearly what they were pumping me full of.” Geralt said, bringing the image forward in his mind. He let the memory of the dream replay. “And then to top it off, I watched it hit me. The fluid expanded, turned white, and they pumped it back into me. And that’s the first time I felt it. It has to be a memory Regis, you are right. I felt it pump into me and I heard a voice.”

“What did it say?” Regis gasped, leaning forward.

“It told me ‘ _Hold on child, when the time is right… hold on_.’.” Geralt said, running his hand through his tousled and sweat filled hair. “And then a feeling, a feeling of needing revenge stole over me for no reason.”

Geralt felt himself getting confused.

“How could I have wanted revenge on something?” Geralt pondered, tilting his head. “There was nothing to get revenge on, there is no name, no person. I didn’t hate Iongram, didn’t hate anyone up till that point. It seems out of place.”

“This has all the hallmarks of something more being involved.” Regis said, his brows furrowing. “When we return to Beauclair, start writing this all down. Do you want to continue to take the dreamless sleep potion? We may glean more if we stop with it. I can sleep with you and control you if you lash out.”

“Planned on letting you sleep with me anyway.” Geralt looked over to the vampire and smiled. “Gotten used to it.”

Geralt felt a rush of giddy excitement float over the bond and Regis smiled, one of his rare genuine non hidden smiles. Geralt felt himself melt.

“But yes, in answer to your other question.” Geralt said, standing up and stretching his back. “Let’s stop the potions, and I will write down what I see.”

“Start writing it all down.” Regis said smirking as he reached over and cupped Geralt’s bare ass with a hand. Geralt turned and gave him a fierce look, activating his mutations just enough to let his eyes glow. Regis shuddered and laughed.

“Now none of that, we had our fun last night, we have a hard ride in front of us.” Geralt said, picking up his knickers off the floor and slipping them on. “Let’s pack up, I think we left a mess out there.”

Regis groaned and followed suite, visions of lust from the vampire floating through Geralt’s head.

The ride had turned awful. The late summer rains of Sodden were famous, hence its name. Geralt and Regis had crossed the Yaruga at Vidort and the river had been swollen and angry. The roads were muddy and full of rocks. Several times Geralt had to stop and claw rocks out of Roach and Vlad’s hooves with the pick he kept on him. Both horses were sore, angry and wet and by the end of the first soggy day they glared at Regis and Geralt when they finally stopped to rest at a small tavern. Regis had gotten them a sweet mash from one of the owners of the tavern and that the treat had lifted the horses’ spirits a little, but they were still grumpy. Geralt and Regis both paid that night to sleep on a bench in the tavern, but neither did. Geralt meditated quietly while Regis borrowed the tavern’s kitchen to brew some potions that had been used and needed to be restocked.

Geralt had began feeling cranky the further they traveled. The second day the rains were just as bad, the roads were just as bad. But the horses had resigned themselves to their fates and didn’t complain as much as they marched them through the marshy wetlands of Sodden. When they reached Kagen they stopped for a midday meal. Geralt was excited at the prospect, but instantly went back to being dour after the meal was served. It was bland. Filling, but flavorless.

It was Regis that finally spoke up after they finally reached the Newi and turned south.

“Geralt, you thirst.” Regis said, pulling Vlad up next to Roach, who was looking just as dour as Geralt was.

“Do I?” Geralt pulled himself up and snorted as water dripped from his cloak onto his nose, causing him to sneeze.

“Yes, terribly.” Regis said, pulling Vlad in front of Roach to stop Geralt. “You haven’t partaken in a few days. You need a bit?”

Regis exposed his wrist and Geralt looked at it for a moment before snorting and maneuvering Roach around Vlad again, continuing on the muddy road.

“No, I am fine.” Geralt huffed. _Was he fine? Is that what this was?_ He blew air from his lips as he heard Regis approaching again.

“You only have to ask.” Regis said, pulling Vlad up to Roach again.

“Don’t particularly want to.” Geralt said, feeling heat rushing to his cheeks. “Least, not now. What about you? You have been pinging me with your own thirst for days now.”

“Yes, and as unfortunate as it is, and as much as I would like it right now, you are as you stated, still mortal.” Regis said, his own grumpiness coming into play. “I have to let you recover. Witcher or no, you have lost a lot of blood in the past week. Better to be safe than sorry. Dragging you back half dead to Yennefer and attempting to explain myself does not sound like the most pleasant of options.”

“She would likely make what the peasants did to you when you were young seem like a holiday.” Geralt grumbled in agreement, imagining the small fiery tempered sorceress cowing Regis into a corner and yelling him to death, with Ciri sitting in the background with himself draped over her lap saying ‘ _He asked for it_ ’. He laughed despite himself.

The rain began to taper a little, the sky taking on a strange cast as the sun began to start its decent. When Regis and Geralt reached the forest that bordered the Newi it was quiet. Geralt felt something prickling the edges of his senses when Regis suddenly yelled and fell off of Vlad and into the wet ground. Geralt turned as an arrow flew at him. He cast Aard and blasted it, and several of its brothers away.

“Regis!” Geralt ripped himself off of Roach and smacked her hard on the rump, causing the horse to kick and dash off into the trees, with Vlad following closely behind.

Regis groaned in the mud and picked himself up. An arrow stuck out perfectly from his chest.

“I detest mud, Geralt.” Regis hissed as he grabbed the arrow. “Detest it with a passion, unless I am specifically using it for my own ends.”

Regis grunted and the scent of the vampire’s blood hit the air. Geralt felt himself salivating.

“You gits!” A voice called from the trees. “He bear’ witcher.”

Geralt turned and looked at Regis and pulled his steel sword. Regis hissed and turned invisible. Geralt went charging into the trees as more arrows flew. The first man he saw, and it was a man, not an elf, Geralt brought under his control using Axii.

“Bad target to pick, thieves.” Geralt growled and cast Quen around him. The men were frightened and rightfully so. Geralt came after them without mercy. They all had swords but were impossibly slow. Geralt played with them a bit, parrying and dodging, and assessing them as they fought. Amateurs. When the first man screamed and fell from the tree Geralt knew Regis had hit his first mark. The others froze. Geralt swept in and killed the rest as the second one that had been up in the tree fell to his death.

As soon as the rush of battle stopped the smell hit him. Geralt felt the transformation take hold without his willing and he stood in the middle of the clearing, hissing, baring his teeth and allowing their blood’s scent to wash over that sensitive organ in the back of his nose. Regis appeared in front of him.

“You need to drink, Geralt.” Regis said, looking at the corpses. “If you don’t your bloodlust could get to the point where you falter in public. I would hate to see what would happen if it did.”

Regis looked far away for a moment. A memory was pushing at the edges of Geralt’s consciousness. Geralt stood there for a moment and glanced at Regis, his heart wrenching painfully.

“You say that, yet you deny yourself.” Geralt exhaled.

Regis looked at him, hesitation running through the bond. Hesitation and new resolve.

“Geralt, if I am to be perfectly frank with you, what I have been doing for the past century is not healthy.” Regis admitted, shuddering as he gave voice to one of the many denials he had built around himself.

Geralt felt Regis’ memory sweep over him. He was in the dirt. He vaguely remembered that his claws, while deadly, had a true purpose. They were shovels. Made for cutting through dirt and soft rock to build burrows. He dug now. Dug with a flying passion. He was whole once more, whole, and truly sober. His teeth ached with the need to catch and kill, but he knew he could resist. He had resisted. He laid here for gosh knows how long and learned to resist. The mocking of his brothers surrounded him at times, but eventually they tired of it and left him alone. The going was painfully slow. He had become weak. Weak in body but strong in mind. When he felt the moonlight hit his fingers he felt a surge of strength. Slowly, carefully, he pulled himself from the grave.

When he got out he took his first breath in nearly seventy years, and instantly felt himself coughing up dirt, refuse, and god knows what else up and onto the ground. After that show of strength he laid out, feeling the moon for the first time as if he was a newborn. It was full, perfect. Regis felt himself laugh. It came out as a pained wheeze.

“Good morning, fledgling.” Regis turned to the voice. Sitting across from him on a bench was a vampire. Another one. One Regis had never seen before. Geralt noted that in the memory the man was represented by light, he couldn’t make out a single one of the other vampire’s features. Only the warm feelings Regis had towards him, and the vague concept of his expressions.

Regis tried to voice his surprise but failed.

“I have heard of your plight.” The other vampire said, his voice rolling and deep. It was beautiful and full, deeper than Emhyr’s voice, and full of wisdom. “Any vampire who wants to curb their appetite to spare humans is one I would enjoy meeting.”

Regis was dumbfounded.

“I can sense your discomfort, please, allow me to ease your suffering if just for a moment.” The vampire approached and kneeled down in front of Regis. “Forgive the forwardness, but in order for you to move you will have to partake.”

“No.” Regis found his voice.

“No?” The vampire spoke with a kind smile on his face. Not mocking, simply questioning.

“Finally got… Finally got it out. No more.” Regis wheezed.

“Then you shall die on this very spot come morning.” The vampire said, again his voice not mocking, just extremely matter of fact.

“Can’t die.” Regis sighed.

“Ah, fledgling.” The vampire said, crossing his legs and sitting on the ground near Regis’ head. “There are a great many things we can do that the Elders would prefer us not to know. Dying is one of them. You used the last of your primary strength to dig yourself out of that grave. It’s an instinct. One that all of us have deep inside us because of where we are from. All of us want to see the light of the moon before we perish. You are no different. That is why you chose to come up when you did.”

Regis sighed and laid back.

“Your form will become immaterial, and you will not be able to reshape it back.” The vampire said. “This is your last hurrah before you finally perish.”

Regis felt fear licking at the back of his mind. He didn’t want to die.

“How… how do you know this?” Regis rasped.

“I have been around for a long time.” The vampire said, looking up wistfully to the moon. “So much longer than is necessary. You will forgive me but I am terribly curious. Why do you want to stop?”

Regis had many years to ponder it.

“I was sick of being controlled by it.” Regis wheezed, cursing at himself as the hunger made itself known.

“Ah, no moral reason then?” The vampire asked.

“Does a wolf contemplate the death of a deer?” Regis rasped, starting to feel defensive.

“In actuality, yes, yes it does.” The vampire said chuckling. “Wolves will always go after the infirm, old, or diseased first. Always, without fail. It’s their way of keeping the balance. They want more deer for themselves, so they only cull those that will hinder the others.”

Regis felt himself reeling.

“How long has it been since you killed?” Regis rasped.

“By my own hand, around nine hundred years give or take.” The vampire said, smiling sadly.

Regis balked. He hadn’t partaken in longer than Regis had been on this earth.

“How?” Regis rasped, wanting to pull himself up to sitting.

“If you will drink young one, I can teach you.” The vampire said. “I have heard the others, mocking your decision, taunting you. Even your Elder. But you have taken the first step. The first step into understanding the great mystery this world has to offer. If you do not want to drink, I can sit here and keep you company till the sun rises and its rays evaporate you into nothing.”

“Who are you?” Regis asked suddenly feeling overcome with awe.

“You may call me Mersea.” The voice rumbled. “I am a professor of anthropology at Oxenfurt.”

“Anthropology?” Regis had asked confused.

“Yes, the study of humans.” The vampire said, smiling again.

“I have heard of you before.” Regis felt his stomach tighten. “You are the Humanist.”

The vampire grinned, his teeth catching the moonlight.

“I suppose that is what they are calling me these days.” He smiled cryptically.

Regis was at a crossroads. He knew it down to the core of his being. He looked to the other vampire then looked down to his dirt covered body.

“I am willing to learn if you are willing to teach.” Regis felt himself saying. “I have made a great many mistakes by not listening. It’s time I quieted my mind and let in what others have to say.”

Regis felt his heart wrench when the memory of _her_ floated through his head. Her lips cherry red, her eyes gray as steel, her chestnut hair. The swell of her hips and breasts, and the way her fangs always poked out just enough while she was smiling to be endearing. The hurt on her face as he came home later each day, and finally stopped coming home all together

The agony when she found out he had been drinking heavily. The joy when he said he would try to stop, and then the utter heartbreak when the Elder informed her he never stopped and wouldn’t be fit for children. Then he remembered her eyes turning cold as she severed the bond.

He remembered targeting them. Women and children the bane of his existence, all to drown out the emptiness that he felt. They had haunted him as he recovered. He remembered their faces. Of some of them their names. He felt the guilt shoot through him like lightning.

“The first lesson is accepting that we are not gods.” The vampire said. “What is your name?”

“Emiel…”Regis said, the name tasting bitter in his mouth.

“Emiel, we are not gods.” The vampire said simply. “We are absolutely fallible, we make mistakes, hurt those we care for most, and suffer from extreme apathy and cognitive dissonance in turn. We could make great things happen, wonderful things, but at our core we are afraid, afraid of death, as you are now.”

“And humans? Their capacity to live is extraordinary.” The vampire said, looking out over the graveyard. “Death chases humans from birth, like it once did us. Most humans take every moment they have, and enjoy it. Even those moments which are not enjoyable to them, make the moments that are that much sweeter. When the free range farms were first set up, we noticed that if we provided everything for them in abundance, they became despondent, listless, when we let go and allowed them the room to fail they thrived. Thrived beyond my imaginings anyway. The unknown chases them, and they need it to chase them to live. The swift chaos of their lives makes them burn brightly, beautifully. Their short time here is so bittersweet, but they live Emiel, something I think our kin have long forgotten how to do.”

The vampire looked down at Regis.

“We are not gods, Emiel. We must humble ourselves.” The vampire said softly. “By humbling ourselves we also must come to the conclusion that we need humans. Our species is in their thrall, not the other way around. You see Emiel, without them, without their blood to replenish our own, the forces that keep us together begin to fall apart. We age Emiel, just as you have if you could see yourself. I remember seeing you from a distance before. Wild black hair, black eyes, robust skin with just a slight bit too much fat around the midsection and chin because of your overindulgence. Young, healthy, pink, and full of warmth on the exterior, but cold, hateful, despondent, dispassionate and selfish on the interior.

Regis winced.

“Now I look at you, and I see an old man.” The vampire said, causing Regis to startle. “Yes, old. You have gained a wizard’s beard, and your hair is white, though caked in mud. Your black eyes are cloudy, and your skin looks like sun bleached stone. You look haggard, sad and starved, but inside, inside those eyes I see it now. That which you lacked.Understanding, empathy, regret. All of those are powerful things that can bring about the best changes in us so long as we understand them as tools, and don’t use them as weights. The want to learn, the want to love, the want to be selfless. I see it as clearly as if you were proclaiming it openly.”

“Please, please help me.” Regis choked back a sob. “I don’t want to die. I may have at one point, but not now. I don’t understand what I did, I need to. I want to, even if it hurts. I need to fix what I fucked up.”

“There is no fixing it, Emiel.” The vampire said, smiling sadly causing Regis’ heart to constrict. “But you can take it, build on it, and do right by the people that you wronged by helping those that need it most in their memory.”

Regis couldn’t describe the anguish of hearing someone say what he knew was the truth. It ripped through him, made him feel as if he were bleeding out internally. The pain was sharp at first, but as he accepted it, it became a pain that was needed. He sobbed on the ground, letting the years of failures surround him. He finally allowed himself to grieve. The vampire stood vigil over him.

“Your strength, it wanes.” The vampire said finally as Regis began to grow quiet. “Will you partake?”

Regis nodded silently, closing his eyes.

“A rule though.” The vampire said, pulling Regis into his lap “You are not to bite me. I am giving you my life, but not my soul. My soul belongs to another. I give you my blood willingly, but not as a sign of bonding, you will not speak the words, you will not be my pack, as I have none; you will not be of my tribe as I have none. I do hope you will be my friend, and in friendship I share this, nothing more.”

Regis nodded.

“That being said; what is going to happen to both your body, and mine, is natural. A happy part of our species that we can no more deny than taking to the skies when the blood moon happens. Neither of us should feel ashamed of the pleasure that is about to overtake us, and neither should we deny it.”

Regis smiled. The vampire mirrored him and moved his arm.

He held it over Regis’ mouth and sliced the thick blue vein open with a claw letting his blood pour in. Regis’ memory went white with pleasure.

The memory shifted, Regis stood over a corpse, blood on his mouth, his brain fuzzy and disoriented. Rage ripped through him, blind rage, at himself and everything around him. Behind him was the Humanist, still glowing, still un-seeable.

“It’s happened again, Mersea!” Regis hissed, looking at the man in the alleyway, whose knife was stained with Regis’ blood. “Third time this month.”

 He stared down at the dead rapist in fury, who he had interrupted before he could take his next victim. The Humanist put a hand on his shoulder, but he pulled away harshly and stomped down the alley.

“I couldn’t even control it!” Regis fumed. “His blood tasted like shit, and even then I couldn’t stop, couldn’t stop myself.”

“And how many was it last month Emiel, and the month before that? And the year before that?” The Humanist said, his voice warm, but sad. “It takes time to learn, and you have been learning.  I see progress where you see failure.”

“There is no way for me not to do this.” Regis said, collapsing on his knees and burying his head in his hands. “I need to stop, stop like before. To hell if I die, to hell with all of it. I will never be rid of this unless I stop completely.”

“You are being much too harsh on yourself.” The Humanist said in his usual way. It just made Regis burn.

“Am I?” Regis sneered, his voice rising with every word. “Am I really? Last time I checked I wasn’t supposed to kill. Period. Hell, we are in Novigrad right now because I fucking made a wreck of our hunting grounds in Oxenfurt. I fucking hate this city, and everything in it!”

“We will be returning come tomorrow.” The Humanist said, standing. “I have done some thinking and I think I know of a way to help you cope. At least with the smell and sight.”

Regis huffed, shame and disappointment in himself wrapping around him like a viper. He would stop again come hell or high water. He would win this war against himself.

Memories flashed again and Geralt found himself in a barber shop in Oxenfurt. The styles people were sporting were almost alien compared to what was current.

“Eli, this is Emiel, one of our own.” The Humanist said. Regis only then realized it was another vampire. He was hungry, double so because he was hell bent on not partaking at all after that night in Novigrad where he finally broke, denying himself even the small amount of time it had been was sending agonizing waves of shock through him.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Regis nodded his lips tight.

“Regis has gone through somewhat of a rebirth recently, and is attempting to deal with an addiction problem to blood.” The Humanist said, his scholar’s robes sweeping hair from the floor as he walked. “I figured exposure therapy would be the best medicine.”

“Ok, why are we here?” Regis asked, looking over the items laid out in front of small table.

“While you are taking my classes at Oxenfurt, I would like you to become an understudy here and learn to shave faces and cut hair.” The Humanist said, picking up a straight razor and flicking it open to inspect the blade.

“What’s the point?” Regis asked, irritation eating at his responses.

“Everyone needs a good shave from time to time, Emiel.” The Humanist said cryptically, smiling.

“If he is to be my apprentice, ground rules need to be set.” Eli the gaunt looking auburn haired vampire with beautiful thick curly hair pulled back into a velvet ribbon said. “First and foremost, is watch me. Second, and actually more important, if you see it and you feel the change there is the door to the cellars right there. You will walk calmly till you reach the bottom. There is a candelabra on the table. Pull it. It will open a way into the sewers and out. You harm a human in here you will never be allowed to return. However if you get out and recover yourself you can come back as soon as you are ready, with no judgments.  Third rule, when I tell you to don the damned mask, do so. Fourth rule, even if there is no one here, and no one around, you may NOT lick blood off the floor or instruments. You will clean it just as if you are a human: soap, boiled water and setting out to dry. If I catch you, then some other bloke could catch you, and I have been here for close to sixty years. I am not gonna move again just cause a boy can’t control his urges.”

“Blood?” Regis looked to the Humanist.

“What do you take this place for?” Eli, who Regis was quickly learning was fiery spat. “I am a human barber surgeon; have been one for longer than you have likely been shitting on this hellhole.”

Regis felt confused.

“Forgive him Eli, he was raised amongst the aristocracy, and is rather sheltered when it comes to the way of the world outside of vampires.” The Humanist said, his words as usual somehow not having pity or a sting. “A barber surgeon is just that. He has all of the tools here to both cut hair, and perform minor surgical duties.”

“And colonics, which he will be helping with regardless of your opinion on the matter, professor.” Eli said, his face sneering in secret delight. “Humans are a poorly adapted species for how much they don’t digest when eating.”

Regis felt instantly overwhelmed and even more confused.

“Shadow him.” The Humanist smiled. “You will learn.”

That first day was also the first day Regis realized he may be in over his head. There were several human barber surgeons that worked here as well. For the most part Regis was stuck to Eli as the vampire cut hair and shaved faces. He watched in rapt attention as the vampire mixed the foaming oil and sharpened the blades noting each and every movement and where the tools were placed. He felt awkward. More so than he had felt in his entire life.

Eli was dealing with a man who had a particularly bad case of lice, when a man stumbled in with a large gash over his forehead. The smell of blood swept through the room and nearly swept Regis into action. He felt his teeth elongate as one of the barber surgeons quickly rushed the injured man over to a chair and dropped him into it without preamble. Regis only barely managed to cover his mouth with his hands before rushing out of the room, to the basement, and into the sewers below Oxenfurt. There was a couch there that had seen much use and he flopped himself into it, grabbing his head as he tried to school his reaction.

An hour later Eli wandered down.

“Not easy, is it?” Eli asked, taking a pipe out of his pocket and stuffing it with tobacco.

“ ‘specially not the first time.” Eli said, striking a match and lighting it.

Regis had finally wrestled his fangs back under control and was shaking with his hands still covering his mouth.

“Here, got this for ya.” The vampire reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial and a rag.

“Put that oil on the rag, son.” Regis’ shaky hands reached over and doused the rag. He hadn’t breathed since he had gotten the first whiff of blood. He was afraid to.

“Put it up to your nose and take a big deep breath.” Eli prompted, puffing at his pipe.

Regis eyed the other vampire and brought the rag up to his face. He hesitantly took in a deep breath through his nose. The sweet citrus-y smell of oranges and lemongrass filled him to the brim, and he felt his eyes close as his body relaxed. Regis had not experienced this smell before, and as a vampire, smell was so much a part of his life that this new and highly intoxicating scent filled him from his nose to his toes. He inhaled several more deep breaths of it and felt his body fully relaxing, and the shaking begin to ebb away.

“Good gods, this smells amazing.” Regis breathed. He wanted to bathe in it.

“The orange oil is what the plague doctors wear in their masks, alongside roses and peony petals.” The barber surgeon said, gruffly puffing at his pipe. “The lemongrass is my personal favorite scent and it doesn’t negate the effects of the orange oil. Oranges and lemons, limes, and grapefruit all have very potent anti-bacterial properties. If you let them mold in the cellar, the fungus that grows on them will kill just about any infections the humans can give themselves. We keep a few barrels here at all times and we run our stitching thread through it. Reduces the risk of those always dying humans, from dying any sooner than they need to.”

Regis nodded, taking the rag away from his nose. The air was clear once more, only smelling of humans, soap, the molding fruit in the cellar and the tobacco.

“Come, the day is young and we still have much to do; clients come in all the time.” Eli said, standing. “Put that rag and the tincture in your breast pocket. The next time a bleeder comes in, or someone nicks someone with a razor, put it up to your nose. It will negate all other smells.”

The memories flashed forward once again and Regis was running though the streets of Oxenfurt with a buttered roll in his mouth, several large tomes in his hands and a bag with a notebook and ink and quill in his bag. He hadn’t had blood in several months and was feeling good about it. He felt cleaner somehow, lighter. The temptation was still there, nagging at him constantly, but he found that instead of bemoaning it, he embraced it. Every time his stomach constricted with the thirst, he basked in the pain.

He was on his way to the barber shop, and a chill was in the air. Finals were coming up and he had to study for his exam while he worked for Eli at his shop. He was to the point now where he was cleaning tools, keeping the shop clean and setting up and breaking down for the barbers as they worked. If he was being honest with himself, he had never felt so useful before. He liked it. Liked the stress, liked the rush of helping.

Within the first two months he no longer needed the rag to cover his nose when someone came in with an injury and he didn’t feel the need to run away many times past that point. But now, now his brain was focused on school. He was in his second year of enrollment.

When he arrived, things were chaotic. Tools had piled up for cleaning, the floors were a wreck and a queue was out the door. Regis barged though the group of people and set his bags down in the back stuffing the roll in his mouth he began to work.

“Emiel, get over here.” Eli’s gruff voice said as he bibbed a patron.

“Yes Eli?” Regis asked, setting the broom down he had been holding.

“The King is apparently visiting Oxenfurt tomorrow, we can’t keep up.” Eli said. “Come here, you have been watching me shave, yes?”

Regis gulped and nodded.

“Think you can do it?” Eli asked, handing him the straight razor he had been holding. Regis gulped and tentatively took it.

“Possibly?” Regis said, trying and failing to put confidence into his words.

“Show me, start to finish what you do.” Eli ordered, wiping at his head with a rag.

Regis did, at first with his hands shaking. He went through every step, just as he had watched Eli and the other barbers do thousands of times. When he had the man prepped he asked him how he wanted it shaped, and the man told him. Regis scraped the razor along the rough stubble. Each stroke became easier. Soon the man’s face was clear of stubble. Regis wiped him down and handed him the hand mirror, making sure it never caught his reflection.

“Good, clean up, set up, and let’s do it again.”

As the night wore on and Regis gained more and more confidence, Eli left him to shave those that needed it, and shifted stations so he could handle any of the others. Regis, as it turned out, was a great help and by the time the clock struck ten bells, they had all the customers that had come seen to.

Regis left that night to head back to the flat that himself and the Humanist shared on Oxenfurt’s employee housing block, and stumbled into the door bleary eyed but proud. He set down his books that he hadn’t had a chance to touch, and set himself to studying.

A light touch at his shoulder woke him up. He had fallen asleep while reading about the first contact between the humans and the elves.

“Long day?” The Humanist stood beside him at the desk in Regis’ room.

“Mmmm, incredibly.” Regis said, stretching and rubbing at his eyes. “I got to shave today, for the first time.”

“Congratulations!” The Humanist said, smiling warmly. “We should celebrate with a hunt.”

Regis felt himself stiffen. He knew the Humanist had noticed his lack of partaking. Small physical changes were beginning to let themselves be known on him. He also hadn’t broadcast his need.

“No, not tonight.” Regis said, his tone more clipped than he meant it to be.

The Humanist sat on the desk and crossed his arms, looking Regis over.

“How long has it been since you partook?” He asked, his voice infuriatingly neutral like always.

Regis felt his lips purse and he stayed silent. The Humanist sighed, his first real broadcast of frustration before Regis.

“I cannot force you to feed, but the call will get too great, Emiel.” The Humanist said. “I would rather head it off at the pass, rather than have to clean up the corpses of half of Oxenfurt when you lose control. And you will, and it’s not me judging you, it’s me judging us as a species.”

“I will resist it.” Regis stated, feeling the rush of hunger slide through him. Like always now, he felt it, and reveled in it, reveled in his control, the pangs of hunger filling him with a strange sort of elation. He had controlled so little of his life for so long that the control he was exercising over himself intoxicated him almost as much as the blood had. The humanist sighed and patted him on the shoulder.

“Happy studying Regis, and good luck tomorrow.” The Humanist said, pushing himself off of the desk. “If you need to hunt, let me know and I will go with you.”

The memories flashed forwards again and Regis found himself standing outside the common area outside of the school’s cafeteria looking up at the lists of grades that had been posted on the announcement boards. His grin became wide as he saw his name at the top of the class. He was graduating with his doctorate in anthropology, and he would be graduating suma cum laude. He had never applied himself to something with such dedication in all his life.

Excitement raced through him as he turned from the board, and several of his fellow students and professors congratulated him as he walked through the halls and out into the open air. As usual he was heading to the barber shop. He was working a shift tonight and he had several appointments for fellow students who wanted to get themselves groomed before the graduation ceremony that was going to take place in the weekend. The school had offered him a job to stay on and teach anthropology side by side with the Humanist. He smiled at the thought, but suddenly felt an odd sort of yearning,a sadness.

When he got there it was chaos. Apparently there had been an accident at the docks and several men had come in bruised and bloody. One in particular had a foot that had been crushed so badly Regis couldn’t discern where the toes were on the man’s feet.

“Regis, your timing is impossibly good.” Eli said, his hands and front covered in blood. “A ship fell, these are the first. I need you to help prep and stitch.”

Regis nodded in affirmation. He quickly set his bags down in the back and grabbed the bag he had begun to fill over the years with his kit for simple surgeries. He went to his station, set up his items, placed the first man in the chair and began to stitch the long gash that had been raked down his arm.

As the night progressed and more people came in, Regis had begun to hear stories. Some sort of monster had barreled through the shipyard and had tipped the boat off its dry land mooring. Some of the men were coming in with cuts and scrapes not caused by debris, but by claws. There was talk, talk of a strange man with slitted eyes and two swords who had come to take the beast down. The beast who apparently was still running amok at the shipyard.

The atmosphere in the barber shop changed nearly instantly. The humans were emitting the smell of fear so thickly it was nearly choking. Regis found a free moment and sidled up to Eli.

“They are talking about a man with two swordsand snake eyes, who can shoot fire from his hands.” Regis said as Eli puffed away at his pipe in the basement like his life depended on the smoke.

“They speak true.” Eli said, a slight shake in his clawed hands. “It’s a witcher, Emiel.”

Regis felt his heart drop.

“A witcher?!” He hissed. “Like the ones that hunted us after Khagmar?”

Eli winced, his mouth pursing.

“What do we do?” Regis asked, his voice panicking. “He will know!”

“They always do.” Eli said, running his hand though the thick mop of auburn hair.

“What will we do?” Regis felt himself begin to get nauseous. Childhood tales filled his head about the augmented human monsters, one of the very few creatures that could actively hunt and kill lesser vampires.

“Nothing, we will do nothing.” Eli said, the pipe hanging precariously.

“How did one get here so quickly?!” Regis hissed. “Was he already here?!”

“Hush fledgling, and never you mind why he is here.” Eli snapped causing Regis to balk. “Go back upstairs, treat the wounded. Focus on your work.”

Regis stood up, feeling angry and frustrated, and for the first time in a long time, _afraid_. When he went back upstairs there were more people. More stitches, more scrapes, some bites. Word from the wounded said that there was not one, but there were several monsters, werewolves. It was a full moon and a pack of them had been traveling on a ship.

Apparently the hospitals were overrun, as were the other barber shops. The surgeons were busy treating people, and the ones that were bitten were taken straight to Oxenfurt’s medical school to be given the antidotes for lycanthropy. People were coming in, scared out of their minds.

A scream outside and a howl caused Regis’ hair to stand on end. Without thinking he raced from his station out the door. People were running away screaming. Regis began to funnel them inside the barber shop, motioning for them to get out of the streets as quickly as they could. He knew they could shelter there, Eli wouldn’t care. They had access to the basement and the sewers. The people would at least be safe for a time there. The idea that a monster was killing in the Humanist’s territory, and by extension Regis’ and Eli’s, set his blood to boiling in a strange way he hadn’t felt in years.

All that bravado stopped when he heard a loud snarl and a howl. Regis looked up and was met with a fuzzy mangy looking wolf creature who was perched on the roof of the barber shop. Panic filled him. There were still people in the streets. He couldn’t transform. He didn’t have time to react before the creature pounced and bowled him over with a strength that had Regis forgetting to breathe.

The wolf had overshot him and scrambled on the cobblestones as Regis rolled himself over. He scrambled backwards and felt his head knock into a wall. About that time two glowing eyes found him. He was pinned. Instinct took over and he hissed at the wolven creature, his fangs elongating in fear. The werewolf laughed. Deep and dark. Regis felt choked.

“LOOK OUT!” The werewolf pounced on him, but a sudden gust of air lifted him from the ground and slammed him hard on the cobbles, his head bouncing on the hard surface and his scalp splitting. Regis groaned as the werewolf got its footing and turned towards him again. Regis sprung up, blood leaking from his head and into his ear. The werewolf pounced again, his jaws snapping at him. Regis caught the beast by the hands and screamed, causing the werewolf to wince at the ear piercing subsonic cry. The only thing that he had transformed were his teeth and he was hissing and holding the wolf at bay with all his might.

“DUCK DAMN YOU _DUCK_!”

Regis collapsed as the wolf turned. A flash of silver came within millimeters of Regis’ face and the wolf’s body collapsed on top of him, blood covering him. Regis started to panic. The smell of blood was intoxicating, and it was touching him. It was human enough that he found himself choking with the scent. He scrambled upright, only to trip over again on something large. The head of the beast. Regis scrambled again, finding himself on a wall; the beast’s eyes still staring at him and twitching as the life slowly drained out of the creature.

Regis found his footing and pushed himself up against the wall. It wasn’t over. In front of him stood a man slightly shorter than he was, with glowing, malevolent slitted eyes. He was panting and his face and body were covered in gore and blood. One sword was at his back, another in his hands, marked with glowing runes and dripping with the wolf’s blood. Regis felt his eyes widen as the man stumbled forward two steps before his eyes rolled upwards and he collapsed.

Geralt felt himself start within Regis’ memories. He knew this man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh ho hooooooo
> 
> Flashback time for Regis!
> 
> And we get to meet the Humanist!
> 
> And who is this witcher? AHHHAHAHAHAHAH
> 
> TIME FOR FUN!!!!


	28. reticent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ********
> 
> Regis hurried, grabbed the tools and rushed back. By this point the other barbers were handling other injured people while others crowded around to watch the two vampires work.
> 
> “Turn him on his side, put his arm up.” Eli hissed, grabbing the scalpel “Grab the metal tube.”
> 
> Regis did as he was told. The witcher was choking and gasping for air and started to fight them on instinct.
> 
> “Brace yourself witcher. This is going to hurt, but it will feel better in a moment.” Eli said. Regis felt the witcher nod and suddenly go limp. Eli felt along the witcher’s side and found the spot he needed. With a practiced hand he cut into the witcher’s flesh. He stopped several times and used his fingers to carefully feel the cut he was creating, and then continued. Suddenly, Regis knew Eli had done what he’d intended when blood began to foam out in great gushes.
> 
> ********* 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!  
>  **  
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
> **
> 
> Now onto the fun stuff
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**
> 
> Canon typical violence  
> Descriptions of surgical procedures  
> Descriptions of Bulimia and anorexia  
> Blood drinking

Regis scrambled forward, panic now filling him for a wholly different reason. The witcher lay in the street, panting, his eyes closed in pain.

“Help me…” His voice rasped. “My belt, swallow, need it.”

Regis kneeled over the man, who now looked smaller than Regis’ mind’s eye had made him out to be.

“Which one is swallow?” Regis asked, his clawed fingers fumbling with the belt. Bile built up in his throat. He was fighting with himself and wanted to run. But something in the back of his mind had solidified him as the only person that could help this man. A strange flood of empathy raced through him when the witcher’s gloved hand grabbed his arm and the man’s slitted yellow eyes looked at him. The witcher had a large gash over his eyebrow and his chin had been split to the bone.

“Do not fear, I know what you are.” The witcher reassured, his eyes locked onto Regis’. “Do not drink me and I shall not kill you.”

Regis scoffed, the tension breaking.

“I have sworn off blood, no partaking happening tonight.” Regis said, looking down at the witcher who’s lips had turned upwards in a slight smile at hearing his reply, but with the next breath the man’s features twisted into a grimace.

“The brown one, that smells like flowers and fish brains.” The witcher ground out wincing.

Regis found two brown ones and popped the vials’ corks. He found the one that smelled like the witcher said and tilted the vial up to the man’s bloodied lips. He swallowed the whole thing and coughed. Blood bubbled up into his mouth.

“We need to get you inside.” Regis started panicking at the sight of the blood. “You are injured, grievously. I am a barber surgeon, I can help you.”

The man grunted and Regis helped him up. Stumbling forward he made it to the door of the shop and pounded on it with his free hand.

“Eli, dear gods let us in!” Regis panted.

The redheaded vampire startled when he opened the door; the sight of Regis and the witcher stunning him. Regis pushed in and dragged the witcher to his station.

“Can I remove your armor, witcher?” Regis asked as he took the silver sword from the witcher, placing it back in its sheath at the man’s back.

“Please, I can’t do it myself. The werewolf got me good, threw me off a roof.” The witcher said. “I got ‘em all though, that was the last.”

“Eli, help!” Regis said, unstrapping the belts and baldrics from the witcher. Eli approached hesitantly, and the witcher’s eyes snapped open.

“Two of you, will wonders never cease!?” The witcher began to cough foamy blood trickling from his mouth. Regis supported him as he and Eli worked him out of his armor and stripped him further. When they got the shirt off of him Regis gasped. He was one giant bruise. He could see broken ribs poking through the skin, moving with every breath.

Regis laid him back and the foaming bubbling noise began to get worse. The witcher’s eyes went wide and he started gasping for breath.

“His lungs are collapsing!” Eli said, suddenly panicked. “Regis, get the scalpels, metal drains and tubing!”

Regis hurried, grabbed the tools and rushed back. By this point the other barbers were handling other injured people while others crowded around to watch the two vampires work.

“Turn him on his side, put his arm up.” Eli hissed, grabbing the scalpel “Grab the metal tube.”

Regis did as he was told. The witcher was choking and gasping for air and started to fight them on instinct.

“Brace yourself witcher. This is going to hurt, but it will feel better in a moment.” Eli said. Regis felt the witcher nod and suddenly go limp. Eli felt along the witcher’s side and found the spot he needed. With a practiced hand he cut into the witcher’s flesh. He stopped several times and used his fingers to carefully feel the cut he was creating, and then continued. Suddenly, Regis knew Eli had done what he’d intended when blood began to foam out in great gushes.

“The tube, Emiel, the metal one.” Eli said, handing the scalpel off to Regis. The witcher groaned as the metal tube was forced into the wound. Once Eli was happy with it he turned and held the man.

“Grab the tube and put it over the end of the metal one Regis. Tie it off, and then suck on the end.”

Regis only hesitated for a moment as the instruction was given. He grabbed the tubing, which was made from sterilized and boiled pig intestines. He attached it to the end of the long metal tube and then put it into his mouth; he felt strange doing so. As soon as it was secure he sucked, _hard_. Foamy blood began to travel down the tube. When it hit Regis’ mouth he spit out the tube and began to gag. He doubled over and retched, spilling bile and acid onto the floor and adding to the miasma of unpleasant scents.

The witcher gasped as air finally filled his lungs, and Regis toppled over with the force of his retching.

“Good gods, I don’t taste that bad do I?”  The witcher panted.

“I told you, I don’t partake.” Regis stated firmly. The witcher laughed, then coughed again.

Regis looked up at him incredulously, but he felt empowered. He hadn’t swallowed. The second he tasted blood he’d forced himself to purge. It was the first time he had done that. He stored this fresh taste of blood, blood that he hadn't had for such a long time now, into his memory, classifying it as poison. He stood up and looked at the witcher.

“Gotta do the other side too, both of ‘em were collapsed.” The witcher said, shifting himself onto his other side. Regis groaned. This time the procedure wasn’t as rushed, and Regis didn’t suck as hard so he didn’t get the blood into his mouth. The witcher groaned as his other lung re-inflated and he began to take big breaths of air.

Eli had to excuse himself and went down into the basement, and Regis was left with the witcher as the foamy blood drained from his lungs, through the tubing and onto the floor.

“Now that you are not in peril of dying, let’s get you cleaned and stitched up.” Regis said, falling back into the pattern of patch and run. The witcher chuckled.

When Regis got alcohol to clean the wounds on the witcher’s chin and brow, he marveled as all the smaller cuts and scrapes had visibly started to heal. He quickly dabbed at the wounds, cleaning them, and then set to stitching up the flesh. He worked at the wound on the witcher’s chin first. It was the worst of them. Several layers of stitches later he finished and then moved onto the witcher’s brow.

“You do quick work, barber surgeon.” The witcher said, causing Regis to smile. “I am sorry I have been so rude, let me introduce myself. My name is Vesemir.”

“My name is Emiel.” Regis said as he furrowed his brow in concentration. “And I am not a proper barber surgeon; I am technically a doctor of anthropology at Oxenfurt, as of today.”

The witcher’s eyebrows shot up, causing Regis to snort.

“Hold still, I am stitching your brow.” Regis said, pursing his lips.

“Sorry Emiel.” Vesemir said, schooling his features. Regis finally took stock of the man while he stitched the smaller wound on his eyebrow. The witcher was world weary and worn, but still looked to be a man in his early forties. His hair was brown, but gray streaks were peeking through in places. Regis looked at the amulet and saw the wolf’s head. Under the bruising he was covered with scars, large and small. Some of them looked fresh, others looked old. His body was muscled, and Regis could understand instantly why people were disconcerted. He looked into the man’s amber colored eyes and watched as the pupils dilated and contracted. They were a lot less like snake eyes up close, more like a cat’s. Right down to the muscle structure within the iris itself. Regis was fascinated by the sight.

“Ok, now you can talk.” Regis said, leaning back.

“Doctor of anthropology, eh?” Vesemir asked, regarding Regis with those strange and unsettling eyes.

“Yup, grades were just posted today.” Regis said and began to clean up the mess. Regis finished up stitching the witcher’s flesh, and as soon as he’d done so he noticed one of the other barbers shooing out the people that had taken up shelter in their shop. The danger had passed and the only ones left were the ones who still needed tending of their injuries.

“Have an interest in humanity?” Vesemir asked, wincing as he shifted.

“Oh gods, yes.” Regis gushed. “Human history is absolutely fascinating! Humans are fascinating. So much so I…”

Eli wandered back, his own rag beneath his nose.

“I see you got our witcher friend all stitched up!” Eli eyed Regis, then frowned suddenly. “Regis, you are injured as well.”

Regis reached up and felt his head where there was a gash from him hitting the cobbles. He had forgotten. He felt stunned when he placed his hands on the puckered flesh. The wound hadn’t closed. He started as he brought his hand down. The blood was still flowing and had made a neat path down his head, around his ear, down his neck, and was currently dripping onto the top half of his shirt.

“Your turn to experience stitches.” Eli said, eyeing Regis with veiled curiosity. “Sit at my station, please.”

“Hey, I am in a lot of pain.” Vesemir said, shifting again. “I hate to be a bother, but you have anything with beggartick in it? Or willow bark?”

“Oh forgive me, master witcher.” Regis said, forgoing Eli’s station; running to the back and grabbing a tincture filled with a sweet smelling liquid. “Here just take a sip, it will take the edge off.”

The witcher grabbed it and took a long shot, then handed it back to Regis.

“You may as well take a shot yourself, Emiel.” Eli said, motioning to his seat. Regis finally sat down, moaning as his feet throbbed. It had been a long day; he took a shot of the liquid. The witcher eyed him curiously.

“Same effects?” He asked, regarding Regis.

“Yes, down to the letter.” Regis said, settling in. He felt the sting of the alcohol as Eli dabbed at his head, then the beggartick began to take effect and Regis felt himself turn boneless in his seat. He winced as Eli began to stitch him up.

“You are lucky, kid.” Eli said, focusing on his work. “What on earth possessed you to go out there to confront a damned werewolf of all things?”

“There were people out there Eli!” Regis barked, his eyes going wide. “I had to save them. They did nothing to deserve getting attacked!”

“Hush, and hold still.” Eli said, wrenching his head sideways.

“I couldn’t _not_ do anything.” Regis hissed as he felt the stitches pulling his skin together. “I am not heartless. I love the people of this city. If I were them, I would have wanted the same courtesy extended to me. You should have seen them Eli, they were so afraid. Gods, that werewolf. I have never seen something so terrifying in all of my days!”

“They are indeed terrible.” Vesemir said, his head lolling. “Hate fighting them, would rather lift the curse on ‘em than fight ‘em. These four though, they were a pack, enjoyed what they were. They came on a ship from Zangvebar, apparently they had been terrorizing the local populace of Dar de Salam for quite some time.”

“That’s a long way to travel.” Regis said as Eli draped a cool rag over the stitches and began to clean up. “And to arrive on a night of a full moon no less, what a terrible coincidence.”

“The ship had been delayed.” Vesemir said. “It should have been here on the new moon, allowing them to move free and clear. They had to moor in Nilfgaard to let a storm pass. Bad timing all around. Though I suppose it was good fortune in a way, got to handle them here before they killed too many people, or changed more. It’s bad enough that they killed here, but imagine if they had gotten up to somewhere like Novigrad and began to turn people before we got word. It would have been a blood bath.”

The door to the barber shop burst open and Regis felt his heart stop.

“Regis, good gods I came as fast as I…” The Humanist stood in the doorway and looked, not at Regis, but at the witcher. The witcher’s eyes got wide, then he closed them and laughed; the motion sending foamy blood onto the floor from the tubing that ran from his chest.

“And then there were three.” The witcher chuckled.

Regis had never seen the Humanist so flustered in his life. He walked stiffly over to the witcher, his eyes wide.

“You are hurt.” Regis heard the shutter in his voice and felt his brows furrowing. His chest constricted as he watched the Humanist reach out and touch the witcher’s face tenderly; looking at the stitches. When Regis saw the witcher’s hand reach up and brush the Humanist’s with the same tenderness, and then smelled the change in them both, he knew. He knew without a shadow of a doubt, _this_ was the one the Humanist was attached to.

“Regis and Eli over there saved my skin.” Vesemir said, running his hand along the vampire’s before it dropped in exhaustion. The Humanist stiffened and drew away, walking over to Regis with light shaking and stiff steps.

“What happened to you Regis?” He asked, his voice quavering.

“Got attacked by the werewolf.” Regis said, schooling his own voice into impassiveness as he reached up and removed the rag from his head, showing the Humanist the stitches. The vampire touched them; a pained expression crossing his face.

“Are you well enough to see your way home?” He asked, looking down to Regis. Regis nodded.

“You must leave.” He said stiffly.

“I understand.” Regis sighed, his heart caught between being elated at figuring out who the other was that was kept secret, and feeling pain as he understood why the secrecy was needed.

Regis stood up shakily and went to retrieve his bags. He passed back through the main room, which had cleared further. He looked at the Humanist, seeing him for the first time since he met him as someone who was on his level, not above, but a thinking, feeling, loving being. The conversation about them not being gods ran through his mind and Regis smiled at him, letting just a peak of his fangs show. The Humanist visibly relaxed as Regis found his way out the door.

Several hours later, Regis was on the roof of the house staring at the moon. He couldn’t sleep, his mind was to full with new information. When he felt the Humanist mist to him he smiled. He had a bottle of mandrake moonshine by his side; something he had recently learned how to make, thanks to one of the overzealous students at Oxenfurt. When the Humanist appeared and sat beside him he could smell the witcher on him. He had noted him coming home with his scent on him before, but he didn’t have a face to attach to it.

“What you did today was extraordinary, Regis.” He said, joining him in looking at the moon. Regis smiled sadly.“Not many of our kind would go out of their way to help a witcher. The stories of them, and what they have done to our kin are not exaggerated by any stretch of the imagination. The fact that you were able to set that aside floors me.”

“I was just doing my job.” Regis reached up and patted at his painful and itchy stitches.

“No, it was much more than that.” The Humanist said, his eyes becoming fierce. “I cannot put into words how thankful I am, personally, that you did what you did.”

Regis smiled sadly and took the bottle of moonshine, taking a deep swig and smacking his lips.

“He your mate?” Regis asked, holding out the bottle to the ancient vampire, who took it and took a long swig himself.

“No, I cannot have a mate.” The Humanist said, frowning sadly. “Too many risks involved. There is so much more I wish to tell you right now Emiel, but I can’t. To do so would put myself and so many others at huge risk, and I couldn’t risk putting you in that position.”

Regis snorted and drew up his knee, resting his chin on it.

“I understand.” He really didn’t, but he also knew that prying was not something the Humanist appreciated. “But he is your lover, you can’t deny that at least. I can smell him on you, and I have smelled him on you for a long time now.”

The Humanist sighed, his shoulders slumping. He took another swig of the moonshine.

“I did it.” Regis said softly, trying desperately for a topic change.

“Did what?” The Humanist asked, sighing.

“I graduated. At the top of my class no less.” Regis had lost the elation over his victory and it came out flat.

“You seem troubled about it.” The Humanist scowled.

“I feel like the study of humans behind the walls of a university is not a study at all.” Regis said, leaning back on his hands. “I have actually learned more about humans and humanity by being a barber surgeon’s assistant than I have ever in a single class at the university.”

“Tell me Emiel, and tell me true. What would _you_ like to do?” The Humanist asked, casting his eyes over the city. “The first part of your life was dictated loosely by your parents. The second part of your life was dictated by those you wished to be friends with. The third part of your life has been dictated by addiction, and now this part of your life, this part has been unwittingly dictated by me.”

Regis winced. He had been feeling this way for a while now but wasn’t sure how to voice it, wasn’t sure if he would take offence. He sighed and ran his fingers softly across the stitches in his head.

“I think,” Regis started, willing the words of his heart to finally be heard. “I think I want to travel the world eventually, helping those that need it most. I don’t want to be here in this city, where people pay fifteen crowns for a haircut. I want to be among the people, the real humans that live outside these walls. I want to help them, heal them. I want to know them, know their stories. I want to witness living, and dying. See the cycles like the seasons. I want to experience it for myself.”

“What are you going to do?” The Humanist asked, smiling.

“I think I will re-enroll myself next year and train to become a field surgeon.” Regis said, feeling a strange and solid happiness with those words. “I will take a position as an anthropology professor and pay for my supplemental classes with the money I earn from that and the barber shop.”

Regis felt himself beaming as the words left his mouth; they felt real, solid. He felt ownership. Something he had never truly had. The Humanist smiled warmly.

“I think that is a splendid idea, Emiel.” Regis felt himself warm at the words.

They sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the sleeping city below them for a time before the Humanist spoke again.

“I wish to offer you the same thing I did when we first met formally.” The Humanist said. Regis stiffened.

“I am not partaking in blood, any blood.” Regis said, wincing at the topic change and stiffly hating that he felt anger at the Humanist as he made his offer.

“You are hurt, and your regenerative capabilities have been compromised by your lack of intake.” The Humanist said, his voice pleading – something Regis had not ever heard before. “Please, as a gift from me.”

Regis licked his lips and felt his stomach constrict. That same feeling of controlled elation filled him as his hunger made itself known. _A little wouldn’t hurt surely_. He felt his resolve crumble when he met the Humanist’s eyes.

“Fine.” Regis said, trepidation filling him. It had been years. Seven of them to be precise since he had last truly attempted to partake in any sort of blood. The Humanist stood up.

“Not out here.” He said and turned to the window. Regis stood up and followed.

When they got into the room, Regis’ room, the Humanist sat on the bed and motioned for Regis to sit beside him. Regis was shaking. He sat down on the bed and felt like his tongue weighed a ton. He smelled the blood and felt his fangs elongate.

“You know the rules, no biting, no bonding attempts.” The Humanist said.

Regis took the offered wrist with shaking hands and put his mouth over the wound. His instincts were screaming to draw, to bite, to rend and to tear; instead he let the pulse of the higher vampire push the blood into his mouth. He tasted it and he almost cried out. His body kicked with the need for the sustenance. It was indescribably powerful, old, and crackling with energy. Regis tensed as he made to willfully swallow the first batch that had built in his mouth.

When he did, warmth wrapped over him and the familiar ecstasy washed over him like a blanket. He drew this time, sucking the blood from the wound with a powerful movement. He could do this, he was in control, and he _wanted_ this.

Three pulls. _Was it enough? Surely three is enough._

Five pulls. _What are you doing? Why aren’t you stopping? Why isn’t he stopping you?_

He was mid-pull when his body lurched, his mind winning over instinct and he choked. He blasted forward shoving the Humanist’s arm out of his way and fell to the floor on his knees. He had enough good grace to grab the chamber pot as he sputtered and coughed. He tried to keep it down. Tried with all his might, but he couldn’t fight himself as his body rolled and blood and bile made its way back up through his mouth.

“Emiel! What happened?!” The Humanist cried out and rushed to his form on the floor. Regis looked up at him long enough to try to convey being sorry with his eyes, before he turned and retched into the pot.

“It was a gift damnit!” He cried as he finally wrestled control of his muscles. He could still feel the weight of some of the blood sitting heavy in his stomach.

“I… I _can’t_.” Regis fumbled with his front pocket. He found the rag, discovering it to be covered in bitter werewolf blood and cursed, gagging.

The Humanist handed him a clean handkerchief from his robe pockets. Regis quickly uncorked the small bottle and splashed it on the handkerchief. He then grabbed it like a lifeline and put it over his nose. He breathed deeply and felt control coming back. The ecstasy of the blood had been tempered by his reaction to it.

“Regis, we need to get you help, this is not normal.” The Humanist said, panic in his voice.

“To hell with normal, Mersea!” Regis exclaimed, still holding the handkerchief to his nose. “I am not normal, you are not normal, Eli for the gods’ sake is not normal. You know what I do have now? In abundance? I have _control_. For the first time in my long life I have control, and I can stop it, stop these incessant cravings.”

“Emiel…” He felt the Humanist’s hand rest on his back and he flinched away.

“No, do not pity me.” Regis hissed. “I do not need it. I know the path I walk, I know what will happen, but gods damnit I am doing it on my terms, no one else’s!”

“I am not trying to pry or pity…”

Regis hissed at the words and cut him off. “Do you wish me to lecture you, _you_ of all the beings on this planet, about the dangers of laying with a witcher?!” Regis growled low, feeling his body shift. “Whose throat is more exposed? Mine where I hold my knife, or yours where someone else does? I know my fate. You could find yourself dead in your sleep on the whim of a monster hunter.”

The Humanist winced and closed his eyes. Regis had struck a nerve.

“You know not of what you speak, fledgling.” He spoke softly. “We all have our burdens to bear, but you have made your point tonight. I will no longer ask you to imbibe; it is not my place, and the matter should be left to you. But I will warn you, the death will be slow, painful, and I do not wish it upon you.”

Regis curled in on himself.

Memories began to flash by in rapid succession now. Geralt felt himself spinning when scene after scene played through his mind of Regis losing himself and binging, only to throw up most of what he had taken. All the while, he could feel the vampire aging, slowing down, becoming calmer, duller. At some point after Regis had dropped out of the surgical program at Oxenfurt, the Humanist disappeared from the memories. Regis ran into Vesemir again, but from a distance. He had left Oxenfurt. He followed the witcher for some time as he traveled the path. Just behind him, tending to the injured that witchers tended to leave in their wake.

He wound up following him back to Oxenfurt, hoping against hope that he would see his Humanist friend again. But when he finally got close enough to the man, he didn’t smell Mersea at all. Not even a hint of the other vampire. His suspicions were confirmed when the witcher with the graying brown hair began a torrid affair with a young women. He left Oxenfurt then, and traveled south, back to lands he had been familiar with in his youth. All the while fighting with himself.

He found two more witchers and followed them for a time, now fully curious about them, but these were smart and nearly caught him, and he had to stop. By this point he had set up a small home in Fen Carn, but felt the need to travel northwards. He was avoiding Oxenfurt and traveling eastward, and wound up in Rinde. He was feeling his age at this point from the lack of partaking.

That’s when he first set eyes on Geralt. He was there at the inn, the inn that happened to be exploded by a djinn while one Yennefer of Vengerberg attempted to tame it. His interest was perked, and he asked about the white haired witcher. He began following him and tracking him. Again offering his services in his wake. From that point forward he would occasionally lose the witcher, but the witcher had a reputation; one that Regis felt was fascinating beyond everything.

When he felt himself waning, he decided his interest in the witcher required him to partake in blood, and he wound up going to Vizima. There he met and had a relationship with a higher vampire named Leah, who owned a brothel. He partook in some of the girls there, and for the first time in a long time he forced himself to sip at a human without purging. When he felt his strength returning he told Leah he was going to track the witcher again. She had not taken kindly to it and had broken off the relationship.

He well and truly lost the witcher for quite some time, and, frustrated with himself, began the cycle of binging and purging once more. He settled back in Fen Carn, and decided to take on Dillingen as his personal territory. He was frustrated and even more angered when the wars began to encroach on his territory. The end result was him defending his territory by lethal force, against any and all outsiders. He was angry, alone, and was partaking again. His misery kept mounting, and now with the war in full swing again, the superstitions began. The in the cities near Fen Carn the rumor was going about that there was a vampire. He had thought it good at the time. But the end result of that were more and more refugees traipsing through his graveyard in attempts to avoid being caught.

He had finally given up and set up a small medical tent to treat those that happened by his little corner of the world when he got word that there was a witcher who was searching for someone. He had picked up a whole group of refugees and he was heading this way in the shadows. Regis had been intrigued. The witcher arrived, as did his entourage and his friends, and Regis started panicking. They were in need of the services of a barber surgeon.

He tracked the party as they traveled. Closer and closer to his territory. One night, fully intending to dispatch the witcher and keep him out of his hair he happened upon the camp. When he stole into the witcher’s tent, he knew him. White hair in a disheveled mess, this was him, _his_ witcher. The one he had been tracking. Geralt of Rivia. Regis looked down at him, listening to his heart and his easy breathing. He had been through hell since Regis had seen him last. He didn’t smell the sorceress, that the witcher had a relationship with, on him. In fact, there was something about the witcher that was hitting at the edge of him mind. Something familiar.

His chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vice and he had to keep himself from falling over with the force of it. The man was beautiful. Regis instantly felt himself stirring and cursed himself. He felt himself longing for the man. In fact, he had felt himself longing for him back when the djinn had destroyed the inn at Rinde. He had tempered his reaction with the knowledge that the witcher was actively engaged with someone else, but now… there was no scent that surrounded the witcher but his own. He knew it would be problematic, and forced his feelings down.

He stole away from the tent and transformed, returning back to his home at Fen Carn. It was mandrake season, and he busied himself with looking for the plants till he came upon a party that had begun to make camp at his cemetery. The party had been sent to intercept and kill the witcher. Regis lost it. He tore them limb from him. When he came to again, he purged. Cursing at himself for being weak.

The arrival of the witcher and his troupe had been a surprise… and in Regis’ weakened state and flustered mind he saw the witcher marching straight up to his house….

Geralt slipped out of the memories and stumbled backwards.

“And here we are.” Regis said, looking over at Geralt.

“Regis, I am…”

“Do not apologize Geralt.” Regis said sternly. “If anyone should be apologizing it should be me, for lying to you all those years ago when I insisted that my kind didn’t need blood to survive. That it was a drug and nothing more. It was my way of coping with not wanting to upset you, with wanting to stave off the hunger. I have been broken for so long Geralt, so very long.”

Geralt enveloped him with his acceptance over the bond. He knew Regis was complicated, that things were hidden in the shadows. But the vampire was his now.

“We walk this path together now.” Geralt said. “I will help you recover, and you will help me figure things out. I am not going anywhere, I want all of you, warts and all.”

Regis chuckled sadly.

“The reason I want you to partake is because I do not want you following my example.” Regis felt his heart constrict as he thought of Dettlaff, who was still sleeping. “I made a mistake by telling Dettlaff about my abstinence. He despises humans, and finds the idea of interacting with them distasteful. He decided to follow my example.”

“And I, I am done with it.” Regis’ voice took on a dark cast Geralt had only heard a few times. “I have something to live for, finally after all these years. I am not going to starve myself to death and allow myself to perish before you, which I would.”

“They are dead.” Geralt seethed. He could smell the changes instantly as his sensory preceptors began to fail and the blood began to lose its pull.

“Pity, noticed you saved one though.” Geralt spun to the one that was at the entrance to the forest, standing still and staring off into space. He stocked over to the place where the rest of the theivs had fallen, and called the axii’ed man over to him.

“W… what do I do?” Geralt groaned, looking at the man. “This doesn’t feel right.”

“You just killed several of his fellows with little thought other than ‘ _them or me_ ’.” Regis said, walking up and nuzzling Geralt’s ear. Geralt hissed.

“I am not going to tempt you into this, as I am tempted constantly. But I will share with you if it eases your mind.” Regis said, nibbling at Geralt’s neck.

“You are doing a pretty fantastic job tempting me anyway, bat.” Geralt spat, leaning into the vampire’s attentions.

Geralt was struck by an idea, one that won over the guilt he felt. He modified his Axii.

“Come to me.” Geralt said and the man obeyed.

“Do you want to be bitten?” Geralt asked, the question charged with the power of Axii.

“Mmm. Yes.” The man said, craning his neck and panting. “Please, I would love nothing more.”

Geralt licked his lips and looked to Regis, who pushed him forward.

“This is so much more awkward than that first time.” Geralt said, feeling oddly self-conscious about the whole ordeal.

“It comes with time and practice.” Regis said, walking around to the other side of the man and cupping his head. He licked the man’s neck and shuddered. Geralt felt himself pulse with thirst.

“Here Geralt, right here.” Geralt stumbled forward and approached the man. He had to stoop slightly to reach him. He too licked at the man’s neck, something that happened without forethought. He felt the strong steady pulse, smelled fear and alcohol and desperation.

“Open your mouth.” Regis purred. Geralt could feel the lust and hunger radiating in waves off the vampire. Geralt began to feel it as well, and he opened his mouth.

Geralt ripped into the man’s neck. Ambrosia washed over his tongue yet again. Powerful, potent. He clung tightly to the man.

“Yes, that’s it. Drink.” He felt Regis press his head into the man’s neck and heard the vampire panting. Geralt drew, until he felt the man’s heart flutter for a moment. He pulled off of him. Regis was staring at him hungrily.

_Kiss me._ Geralt spoke through the bond. Regis did so.

Geralt let what was in his mouth flood into Regis’ and felt the vampire tense. Regis pressed into the human between them and attacked Geralt’s mouth hungrily. Geralt pulled off of the vampire panting for a moment.

“Share with me.” Geralt husked. “Together.”

Regis nodded and positioned himself on the other side of the man’s neck. Geralt bit down and the man under him moaned. When Regis’ teeth bit the man, Geralt felt the change in the blood as Regis’ poison pumped in, strong, stronger than his. It began to affect Geralt as Regis drew and swallowed in big starving gulps. He felt the man under him stiffen as his heart pumped frantically; a result of the poison Geralt knew. When the blood finally tapered Geralt pulled off. Regis followed the man as he collapsed on the ground. He licked at the man hungrily till Geralt pulled his head up and craned his neck.

When he felt Regis’ teeth he groaned into the sensation. Regis pulled off of him, smacking his lips. He had only taken a couple of pulls.

“Gods, Geralt.” Regis said, stumbling. “I barely had anything, yet I feel like I have drank twenty people.”

Regis weaved on his feet and tottered.

“I do believe I need to sit.” Regis said, finding himself a stump in the rain. The last of the light had begun to dim

Geralt chuckled. He felt somewhat buzzed himself, but not near as much as Regis did. He felt the vampire reeling through the bond with the effort to remain upright. Geralt looked around the clearing and found a tent that was sheltered from the rain. He smiled and helped Regis up.

“Geralt, I feel absolutely silly right now, but I think I need to rest.” Regis said, grabbing at his head. “I have never gotten this bad, this fast with only a sip or two.”

“Gotta build your tolerance back up.” Geralt smirked, pulling the vampire to the tent. It was clean enough. Slept in, vaguely smelled of piss. But it was dry.

He laid Regis down and the vampire fell backwards with a huff.

“Sleep Regis, I will see you in the morning.” Geralt said softly, but the vampire had already closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOTS OF FUCKING BACKHISTORY. UGH. Lucky for me, I am writing this for me! Sorry you all have to suffer through it but hey! Live and let live!
> 
> How’ed you all like me hooking the Humanist and Vesemir up? Kinky eh? HAHHA One of the many things that had been planned from the getgo XD. I will touch more on them again later… much, much later. In the meanwhile enjoy!
> 
> Chapter finished Thursday November 8th 2018


	29. meeting of the Iron Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Regis run into some unexpected visitors.
> 
> ****** 
> 
> Geralt didn’t know what he expected when they approached the hidden entrance, but when Morvovio released the illusion the sight that greeted them floored him. The whole of the cave looked like it had been transformed. As the horses stepped in Geralt felt his eyes wandering; it was absolutely beautiful. Morvovio turned and closed off the entrance and the sunlight was blocked. The cave came alive.
> 
> Even the horses seemed to pause as every footstep they took set off a cascade of light that flowed down the cobbled road, lighting designs and murals that Geralt had not seen the first time through. Geralt could hear music flowing from somewhere below. Drums, flutes, a lute, and voices met his senses. They were singing, almost a hymn. The effect echoing down the cave was aweing. The road was lined on either side by shallow walls sporting pillars which had braziers where blue flames licked in the air. Designs were etched into the walls and into the bricks. And the phosphorescent moss that had lead them through the caves the first time had come alive and was pulsing with light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!  
>  **  
> **  
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**
> 
> NONE HOLY SHIT

Geralt had made camp quickly and called back the horses. The small fire was crackling and spitting due to the wetness of the wood, but it provided heat that cut pleasantly through the damp chill. The rain had tapered completely and the area had been enveloped in a cold mist, the cool wisps of air winding through the trees and creating an otherworldly haze. Geralt felt himself shivering as he meditated, keeping an eye on his surroundings and watching as Regis slept. It was quiet. Quiet and dark.

Several hours into his watch, Regis stirred and sat up. When he felt Regis move Geralt’s eyes snapped open, tracking the movement of the vampire as he moaned; a dull throb of pain coming over the bond.

“You need rest too, you know.” Regis stretched his arms up and winced. Geralt felt momentarily guilty. He had been just out of sorts enough that when he had laid Regis down to sleep, he had forgotten to remove his cumbersome bags. Regis huffed as he removed them and rubbed at his hip where he had been laying on the lumpy bulk.

Geralt grunted.

Regis regarded Geralt for a moment before he stood and slowly ambled over to him, putting his hands on his witcher’s damp shoulders. Geralt leaned into his warm touch the feeling of being claimed sending a tired wash of elation through him.

“Go, rest, I will watch the rest of the night.” Regis chuffed, leaning down and nuzzling Geralt’s neck.

Geralt grunted again and felt a smile pulling at his lips. He didn’t need to be told twice. With a quick motion he stood up; his own legs aching from the position he had been holding. He nuzzled Regis and then turned towards the tent, unbuckling his baldric. He laid his swords beside him, within easy reach, and then flopped onto the small pad Regis had occupied. It was still warm and smelled of the vampire. He soon felt himself overcome with sleep while Regis’ eyes scanned the distance.

When he awoke in the morning, sunlight was streaming through the trees and Geralt could smell cooking. Regis had been foraging and had found several nests of quail eggs. Geralt felt his stomach constrict as he sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He looked around the camp now that it was daylight; the corpses lay where they had been the night previous, only now rigor mortis had taken hold, and their limbs sat at odd angles. Geralt sighed.

“Good morning, Geralt.” Regis said, stirring the pan with his bare fingers. The sight, as always, was slightly disconcerting.

“I want to be at home, in my bed, Regis.” Geralt groused. The rain of the previous two days had made him stiff, and the night’s lodgings had left much to be desired. He awoke cranky, but much more at ease than he had been for the previous few days.

“Come Geralt, a warm meal and a drink of water will cure you of what ails you.” Regis grinned, a skip in his step as he moved to the saddle bags. Geralt cocked his head, and then smiled as Regis pulled out some cured bacon from a wax paper pouch that had been gifted to them by Silas. Geralt felt his mouth watering as he stood up and strapped his swords back to his back. He stalked towards the fire, hunger twisting his stomach into knots.

“Gotta take care of them.” Geralt jerked his thumb towards the corpses that still littered the clearing.

“They will be exactly where they are after breakfast. Let’s not move them before we eat.” Regis slapped the thick cut bacon down in the pan. The sound it made and the smell that came from the quickly cooking meat caused Geralt to groan in anticipation.

Geralt placed himself near the fire and watched lazily as the vampire bounced around with an energy he hadn’t seen from him since they had traveled with the hansa. He was smiling to himself as he worked; his thoughts stunningly calm.

“You think we can make the run back to Beauclair in one day?” Geralt asked, looking through the trees at the sun.

“Perhaps?”Regis’ tone was ponderous and light. “I promised to stop by and take a look at Morvovio’s arm on our way back, to see that it was healing properly. If we make the visit quick, we should hit the elven highway by the afternoon. We can ride the horses through the tunnels this time. We know the ceiling is lowest at the beginning. We could potentially hit the palace by midnight or just after.”

Geralt grunted as Regis grabbed a plate from his pack and started serving up the meal. Geralt’s stomach rejoiced and he began to dig in with gusto. Geralt found himself licking the grease from his fingers; every ounce of the bacon absolutely delectable. It took a few moments before Regis joined him, eating his own food, slowly growing more and more still. Geralt looked over to Regis as his thoughts turned more and more pensive. He was fingering something in his hands. A determined expression settled itself on Regis’ face and he turned to Geralt while the witcher was mid-bite.

“Geralt, take this, I am giving it to you.” Regis said, his voice slightly clipped. Geralt frowned, still chewing. He reached over and grabbed the item, then promptly just about dropped it. He recognized it.

“Regis, this is the ring you gave Dettlaff!” Geralt exclaimed, swallowing his food in a pained gulp.

“Yes, one that the Humanist gave me.” Regis’ voice held a sad cast to it.

“He was a part of the Tdet tribe?” Geralt balked, looking at the image of the snake.

“He was aligned with them during the conjunction, yes. He was staying with them as a guest for a time.” Regis said, smiling sadly. “He didn’t go into very many details, but when they first crossed over there was a lot of concern among them, especially as Toussaint at the time was ruled by the elves, that we needed to remain as inconspicuous as possible. And this ring? It has a rune on it. The rune of form. It will help you to hold off your transformations till you absolutely need them.”

Geralt’s eyes widened.

“That’s why Dettlaff needed it then.” Geralt said, trying it on his fingers. His fingers were thick and muscled from years of sword use and heavy work with his hands. It fit on his pinky. He shrugged; he didn’t feel any different.

“That’s precisely why.” Regis nodded, stuffing his own mouth with the eggs and speaking with his mouth full. “He needed it, because he had never really been around humans. When Dettlaff did happen to be around them he was always discreet. When we had to come to Toussaint he knew he was going to have difficulties, and I helped him by giving him this.”

“That would also explain his inability to control himself after he lost his hand.” Geralt pursed his lips.

“Also true.” Regis nodded.

They finished the meal in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Once Geralt finished he quickly walked around the clearing, gathering the bodies and piling them up with whatever relatively dry wood he could find. Regis of course was taking his time, and enjoying the meal of fresh eggs and bacon. Geralt was eager to leave, eager to get home.

When he had finally gathered up the bodies and lit the makeshift pyre with Igni, he felt satisfaction race over him. He watched the pyre burn for a few minutes, and Regis quickly cleaned and packed the cast iron pan in his saddle bag. It didn’t take long past that point to ready the horses. Geralt didn’t even look back as they cleared the forest and found their way back onto the path.

True to Regis’ word they passed into Belhaven just after noon. The town was a flurry of activity as they entered it. They spent a few moments asking after the troll Morvovio, curious to see if he was around. After a few false leads, they were eventually informed by the village alderman that Morvovio went up to the mountains with a group of visitors. When Regis and he pressed further on who the visitors were, the alderman buttoned his lip and told them to ask Morvovio himself. They then headed towards the mountains.

The troll and the visitors were easy to track, and Geralt determined that the troll had left with elves. Even elves left tracks in the rain and mud. When they got up to the Valley of Flowers they discovered, much to their surprise, Morvovio passed out, and no elves in sight. The troll had created a little sun shelter and had a cauldron brewing with something that smelled meaty and full of wine.

“Hey, Morvovio, wake up.” Geralt said, approaching the troll cautiously. Even laying prone the troll was almost as tall as Geralt was. The steady gridding rise and fall of the metallic crystals on the troll’s back let Geralt know he was just sleeping.

“Allow me, Geralt.” Regis said, winding around to the troll’s front and crouching down.

Regis touched the troll and Morvovio’s eyes flew open in panic. In a split second he was up, and Regis leapt back, landing on his rump. The troll roared.

“Morvovio, stop your foolishness this instant.” Regis stood up swiftly, eyeing the troll. “It’s me Regis, the barber surgeon and Geralt the witcher. We are on our way back to Beauclair. I told you I would come back and check on your arm.”

Geralt was halfway reaching for his sword when the troll laughed; recognition dancing in his eyes.

“BARBOR SURGON!” He boomed and reached down with a large hand to tap Regis on the shoulder. “Morvovio glad you come! And Dh’oine too!”

The troll gave a great sniff and scowled.

“Changed.” He scrutinized Geralt, and approached him slowly,holding his still injured arm to his chest. He gave a great sniff, and suddenly Geralt was all too aware that he hadn’t bathed in days and that he had taken to letting Regis put his scent all over his armor. He felt his face heat up.

“Hmmmm changed.” The troll said, grumbling off into his own language.

“I see someone else got to that arm.” Regis had walked forward to look at the troll’s arm. Geralt looked closely. The bandages and the splint had been changed completely, and were now held in place with a fancy wrap. Geralt recognized the style. The bandages were gray with a fine print of leaves on them and were wrapped with precision. As Geralt approached, his amulet vibrated. Small runes were placed from the top to the bottom. Elven work.

The troll looked at Regis and moved to speak, but then closed his mouth. Geralt looked around. The footprints were all around, and a path in the grass lead back to where the cave was sealed back up again. Geralt looked to the troll who currently looked like he was wrestling with himself.

“Elves have been here, Morvovio.” Geralt said, following a path and finding a discarded feather from an arrow fletching. He frowned. The feather had a distinct look to it, and was from a bird that was only found in Dol Blathanna. There was only one group of elves that used that distinct fletching, and used that distinct wrapping for injuries. Geralt sniffed at the feather and recognized the scent. It wasn’t the scent he was hoping for, but it was familiar none the less.

“Iorveth’s unit has been through here.” Geralt said, staring off through the grass. The troll had approached silently and leaned over Geralt, casting a large shadow.

“Iorveth?” Regis asked, looking around at the light footprints.

Geralt didn’t bother trying to explain. He just sent Regis the memories. . Regis stumbled momentarily as Geralt caught up to him, the troll staring between the two, narrowing his eyes.

“Dh’oine know pointy ears?” The troll asked, eyes narrowing.

“Yes. This specific group I know.” Geralt pursed his lips, the weight of something heavy filling him. The shrill cry of the birds around them added to the unease Geralt was beginning to feel. He looked over to the vampire and Regis nodded.

“What were they doing here, Morvovio?” Geralt asked, looking at the silhouette of the troll in the harsh light of the afternoon. Then Morvovio began muttering in his own language and seemed to make a decision as he loomed over Geralt.

“Dh’oine friend, yes?” Morvovio looked over to Regis who had tensed and had his hand wrapped around the strap of his satchel. “Barbor Surgon friend yes? Morvovio, swore not tell. But friends, friends help? Friends no hurt pointy ears?”

Geralt barked out a laugh, all the tension leaving him in a giant whoosh.

“Gods no, Morvovio, they are friends of mine as well. “ Geralt said, standing and coming out from under the troll’s shadow. “I fought alongside them a few years ago. I am indebted to their leader, Iorveth.”

The troll became animated, smiling, and his whole demeanor changed.

“Pointy ears help Morvovio.” The troll said, animatedly holding out his arm. “Gave magic rocks, many rocks, help Morvovio. Morvovio helped Dh’oine rebuild house. Then pointy ear found me. Knew Morvovio. Say they come. Come see…”

The troll scratched at his arm.

“You do not need to tell us what they are doing here.” Regis piped up.

“No, witcher Dh’oine must know.” Geralt balked at the use of his title. “Henglysfeanin. Old, capped.”

Geralt narrowed his eyes. He had heard that term used before.

“Magic.” The troll said. “Many, but here none, capped. Capped when door opened. Ichaerlleidr, came. Like Barbor Surgon. Friend? Foe? Pointy ear know not, not risk.”

Regis balked.

“Wait, IchaerIleidr?” Regis asked and Geralt winced as his curiosity skyrocketed.

“Morvovio lost mate.” The troll went on, ignoring Regis. “Bad mushroom, appear in cave. Cave has Henglysfeanin. Ground shaky, place change, new mushroom, bad mushroom. Told guard. Then Henglysfeanin capped.”

“You mean the night spores.” Regis shook his head, his eyes wide. “There is no other known piece of my world here on this world. Geralt, when the conjunction happened more pieces of my world must have come through.”

“Why are they here, Morvovio?” Geralt asked, that foreboding feeling returning.

“Need magic.” Morvovio said. “Say need magic. Inspect, prepare.”

“You said I was an Ichaerlleidr.” Regis said, looking up at the troll. “You knew? You were tasked with protecting this place, likely from one exactly like me.”

The troll nodded sheepishly.

“Sometimes Morvovio not so good at guarding.” The troll said, narrowing his eyes at Regis. “When came through first time, feisty with Dh’oine, help Morvovio. No want cave. Morvovio help. Good Barbor Surgon, fix people, all. Fix Morvovio.”

“Now…” The troll trailed off and gave a great sniff. Geralt suddenly felt the need to step between them, and he did. He felt his amulet vibrate in the subtle way it did around monsters.

“Now blood…changed.” Morvovio said. Regis tisked and put a hand on Geralt’s shoulder, moving beside him.

“Really Geralt.” Regis scoffed. “I appreciate the sentiment, but what good would it have done? Had you moved to protect me you would have been flattened with a single punch.”

“Oh no! No nono!” Morvovio backed off panicked, waving his large hand in front of him. “No hurt Barbor Surgon! You mate! He drink you, you him. Smell mixymixy.”

Geralt felt himself going red from his toes to his forehead. Regis began to laugh. Geralt really wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and curl up and ignore anything and everything around him. He groaned further when he realized his fellow witchers would likely smell it too, even if he scrubbed at his skin till he bled. The icing on the cake was the second he realized _that_ , he was so turned on it was difficult for him to think of anything else.

“You are going to drive me to madness, Geralt.” Regis coughed, his laughs turning into choked wheezes when images began to flash through Geralt’s mind’s eye.

“Morvovio, is the path through safe?” Geralt asked as Regis recovered, trying to save face. He willed his mutations into action and rerouted the blood that had gone south. He'd gotten so turned on that his pupils had blown wide open, and his already sensitive eyes were letting in more light, quickly giving him a headache, so he willed them to narrow.

“Morvovio cleared it after house re-built.” The troll said. “Pointy ears give this, open cave.”

Morvovio pointed to a trinket on a necklace hung by a thick rope. It was an Eye of Nehaleni.

“Now Morvovio no get trapped, get wine.” Morvovio licked his lips and walked over to the stew pot. “Drank much, asleep. Food?”

“Sure we can partake, we have a moment.” Regis said, smiling and approaching the stewing cauldron. Geralt also approached. It looked like a whole boar had been flopped in from the trotters to the snoot. In it was wine, red wine. And vegetables. It looked and smelled delicious. Geralt felt his mouth watering.

“Good! Eat! Hos…hopsitality!” The troll said, hopping around the caldron; his massive weight shaking the ground. Geralt went to Roach and got two cups from his saddlebag. The troll began to break the boar into soft meaty pieces. He then served it up to the witcher and the vampire. It was simple as far as stews went. Not much else other than salt, veggies, meat, and wine. But it was delicious all the same. Geralt let the horses graze while him and Regis sat down and enjoyed the meal with the troll.

The troll caught them up on what had happened in Belhaven in the few days they had been gone. The earthquakes had ebbed, but the populace was convinced it was a sign of the end times. Plague pestilence, and famine. Morvovio was convinced that the plate under Toussaint and the surrounding area had been under stress for a long time, and that the earthquake they experienced was just a small shift.

“Morvovio, could you lead us back through the caves?” Regis asked politely, sipping at some wine that the troll had given them; a good vintage no less.

“Yes, Morvovio must.” The troll nodded letting out a massive foul smelling belch and laughing. “Pointy ears no like outsiders. Morvovio help.”

Geralt felt Regis’ uncertainty wash over him like a wave. Geralt put a hand on Regis’ knee and rubbed at it.

“They won’t kill us.” Geralt said. “They owe me just as much as I owe them.”

Regis smiled but Geralt could hear his uncertain thoughts. He sighed.

“No kill.” Morvovio nodded. “Morvovio help.”

Geralt stood up and stretched. The sun was beginning to head towards the horizon now, the light taking on that yellow cast that happened as sunset approached. The air had a chill in it. Geralt felt himself salivating at the idea of going home. Home, a concept he never realized he would have. He smiled as Regis stood up and brushed himself off. _Home with Regis_. Geralt felt his heart flutter at the idea of having both. Regis mirrored his happiness through the bond, the tension easing from the vampire at the happy thoughts.

They mounted up as Morvovio took his cauldron off the flames and doused them in dirt. Before long they were ready and set off towards the mouth of the cave.

Geralt didn’t know what he expected when they approached the hidden entrance, but when Morvovio released the illusion the sight that greeted them floored him. The whole of the cave looked like it had been transformed. As the horses stepped in Geralt felt his eyes wandering; it was absolutely beautiful. Morvovio turned and closed off the entrance and the sunlight was blocked. The cave came alive.

Even the horses seemed to pause as every footstep they took set off a cascade of light that flowed down the cobbled road, lighting designs and murals that Geralt had not seen the first time through. Geralt could hear music flowing from somewhere below. Drums, flutes, a lute, and voices met his senses. They were singing, almost a hymn. The effect echoing down the cave was aweing. The road was lined on either side by shallow walls sporting pillars which had braziers where blue flames licked in the air. Designs were etched into the walls and into the bricks. And the phosphorescent moss that had lead them through the caves the first time had come alive and was pulsing with light.

“Geralt…” Regis said, his eyes trying to look everywhere at once. “This… this is absolutely resplendent.”

Geralt snorted as he looked around. This is what had been destroyed when the humans came through, ravaging the land and destroying the elves. Things like this were rare now. This was just a mining road; the path lit to allow the miners and carts a little light. Geralt felt himself choking with the idea that something so artistic could have been meant for just common people to enjoy.

“Pointy ear clever.” Morvovio said, clicking his tongue. “Used to be more. Now not so. Still nice.”

“Oh what I would give to see this in its heyday.” Regis’ voice was giddy. He led Vlad over to the edge of one of the walls and inspectedit as they walked. Little leaves carved into the rocks pulsed with light. The music flowing from somewhere below was intoxicating. Something the likes of which Geralt had never heard before. He had stumbled upon Iorveth playing his flute a few times and had felt himself sway with the magic, but this felt different.

The music’s pitch changed as Morvovio picked up the pace; Geralt and Regis followed at a trot, descending down and down in the direction of the now haunting music. Geralt could feel the magic flowing through the air and his amulet began to pulse alongside the music. It was mesmerizing and Geralt felt drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Regis stole a look over to him as Geralt began to hum, catching the melody and adding his own gravely tones to it.

“Geralt,” Regis’ voice broke through, and Geralt felt the vampire’s trepidation leaking through the haze. “It’s caught you. The melody, it has you mesmerized. Break out of it.”

Geralt felt himself sway and smiled.

“Geralt!” This time it was more urgent. “Break out of it. Put up a block against it like you did when you closed the bond. It’s a ward. You need to fight against it!”

Geralt felt Regis frantically pushing at his mind; the actions of the vampire on the surface not mimicking the terrified pull within him. Geralt felt himself stiffen and recalled how he shut off the bond. He winked the bond he and Regis shared for a moment, still feeling the heavy sway of the music. Regis was right, it had ahold of him. He then took what he just did, and aimed it at the pull of the music. He gasped when the magic was suddenly rebuffed, and the music, still beautiful, lost its mystical quality.

Geralt blinked and came back into himself.

“There you are.” Regis sighed in relief, pulling Vlad up beside him. “You absolutely need to work on countering mind gripping spells. Your mental fortitude is very lacking.”

Geralt grunted as a headache set in.

“Not to say that you don’t have strength in that area.” Regis chided. “But you absolutely need to remember to defend yourself.”

“Got it.” Geralt grunted, his head throbbing. The magic was still trying to weave its way in as the horses trotted forward.

“Morvovio like pointy ear music.” The troll said, smiling hazily. “Make feel good.”

“The music is indeed lovely Morvovio, but we haven’t the time to fall under its influence.” Regis said curtly. “We have been on the road, or fighting, for over a week and a half now, and getting back and discussing our next plan of action is of paramount importance. Along with rest, which both of us sorely need.”

“The harvest will be beginning by the time we get back.” Geralt said, allowing his mind to slip back into that of a vintner. “The air up in the mountains is already chill, and summer has lost its hold. Velen approaches, and the way my knee has been aching I think we are in for a harsh winter. I need to get back to the vineyard to make sure everything is running smoothly and to make sure any issues are addressed before they become huge problems.”

Silence took the three over as they traveled downwards, following the music which became clearer with each step. They had been riding for nearly an hour when the ground evened out, and the music stopped. Geralt could hear voices ahead as Morvovio slowed down, and the horses groaned with relief.

“The horses need rest Morvovio.” Geralt said, looking around.

“Water ahead, come.” Morvovio grunted. There was a break in the wall where a boulder had crushed it flat, and a small path that lead downwards to a small fountain. Geralt hopped off Roach and noted the lack of voices as they approached the water. Regis hopped off Vlad and approached the fountain himself, drawing out his waterskin.

Geralt could hear them now, as could Regis likely. The elves had approached, their feet silent, but their hearts hammering in their ears. Morvovio was inspecting some of the fallen wall.

“You will stay exactly where you are, and not move.” A voice carried over from above the witcher, higher up on the road.

Geralt stood still, as did Regis, who was internally panicking. Geralt looked over to the vampire and sent a warm wave of comfort. Regis wanted to grab hold of Geralt and run. Geralt frowned.

“We are traveling to Beauclair, let us be and we will be out of your way in short order.” Geralt said, looking up. Elves lined the road from above their arrows notched and bows drawn. “I know who you are, you are Iorveth’s men, though getting sloppy since the accord at Dol Blathanna was called. One of you is missing a feather from an arrow fletching.”

“This road is to be secured for the passage of Emhyr var Emreis, Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd.” The elf said. Geralt could see him clearly now. He had a leather hood with a feather. “You are trespassing Dh’oine, and the fact that you know who we are does not endear you to us.”

Geralt felt anger boiling up and reached into his armor. He didn’t get two steps towards the elves before the arrows were loosed. Geralt blasted them away with Aard, and Morvovio roared.

“DH’OINE WITCHER, BARBOR SURGON FRIEND!”

The archers were stunned and hesitant as Geralt approached, holding out his amulet.

“I am Geralt de Corvo Bianco, Dhu Evn’gesaen.” Geralt snarled and grabbed the elf with his free hand. “You will lower your weapons by my order if you are under the Emperor’s influence Scoia’tael.”

Regis appeared beside Geralt in a puff of mist, his eyes harsh and cold. The elves balked.

“I-ichaerlleidr!” The leader with the cap stammered, darting backwards.

The arrows were notched once more and aimed straight at Regis. Geralt put up a Quen around them, instantly feeling the shield envelop them both.

“He is under my protection.” Geralt growled, grabbing his steel sword from its hilt in one smooth motion. He stared at the elf, his eyes hard.

“Enough of this foolishness, stand down, do you not know who stands before you, Curvoil?” An elf stepped from around the others. One Geralt recognized, though only through description and etchings that had been done. He didn’t break his stance and felt his nostrils flare.

Before them stood a legend. Geralt knew immediately that if he wasn’t outclassed he was damn near it. The elf was tall, muscled, and his features harsh. Brown eyes as dark as Regis’ peered out from thick eyelashes. Across his face was a scar that ran from his forehead across the bridge of his nose and down to his jaw on the other side. Across his face stripes were painted in the green hue the elves favored. Smaller scars littered his face, and a notch had been cut out of one ear. A mark of death. He wore a simple woolen cloak pinned by a broach in the shape of a double bolt of lightning. His long brown hair was braided back in a plait and a silver circlet hung on his forehead. Geralt felt himself swallow.

“So the Iron Wolf meets the White Wolf at long last.” The rich baritone of his voice cascaded over the group as the elves stood down. Geralt was still thunderstruck and the grip on his steel sword was painful. He keyed his mutations up and his eyes began to glow.

“Iorveth speaks highly of you.” The elf continued, pacing around Geralt and Regis and sizing them up. “In fact, I was told we were likely to run into you as we traveled.”

“Isengrim Faoiltiarna.” Geralt ground out, still on guard. “I know who you are, though only by reputation.”

The elf stopped and glanced at Regis, and Morvovio came . The elf looked at Regis from head to foot. Regis looked relaxed, but Geralt could hear his thoughts analyzing the elf, and saw the telltale tightening of his hands on his satchel. Geralt however was giddy with excitement over meeting the elf that stood before him. His reputation was the stuff of legends.

“Interesting company you are keeping these days Gwynbleidd.” The elf said, his posture also looking relaxed. Geralt extended his senses and felt the elf’s heart racing, and the smell of fear sweat permeating him.

“Let’s dispense with this.” Regis snapped, stepping in front of Geralt and the elf.

“My name is Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, and I offer my hospitality to you and yours.” Regis said, his tone slightly clipped. He held out his hand, allowing his claws to be seen.

“Hospitality from an Ichaerlleidr, and in our territory no less.” The elf sneered. Regis still pointedly held out his hand.

“Technically, it’s the Emperor’s territory, and seeing as my friend here is working for him directly, as am I, I see no reason why not to offer my hospitality to you and yours.” Regis sneered right back, his expression was harsh but he still held out his hand. “You will forgive me, but I am a man of many words, and in this case many need to be said. I see you and yours standing before me, and I know what you are after, and it does not concern me in the least bit. You can have it, I have no personal interest in it, nor in you, but my friend here seems to be rather impassioned by your presence.”

Geralt kept his expression neutral as he stared at the elf, but inside he was screaming at Regis.

“Furthermore, yes, I am a vampire or an Ichaerlleidr as you so called me, which is an insulting name.” Regis spat and the elf’s eyes went wide. “But I am not one of the common ones, I am a higher vampire. And though you may think you have us outmatched, you do not. Thus, I extend my hospitality to you not only because we are working for the Emperor and in the empire’s best interests, not only because Geralt has been named Dhu Evn'gesaen, which by the way means that he is allowed to act in whatever way he sees fit to get his job done, but because by sheer strength alone, Geralt and myself could take on the whole of your unit, decimate it, without even getting a scratch.”

Geralt saw as some of the elves backed up and looked at each other. Recognition was on some of their faces as they had known Geralt from the events after the death of King Foltest. The elf in front of Regis stood taller, his eyes becoming harsh. He looked about to speak, but was interrupted again by Regis.

“And do not take that for wasteful boasting, it is simply a fact.” Regis snapped. “I am a barber surgeon by trade and I have treated many elves in my time, and I can see it plain as day. Your unit was sent out before you were able to get the cure for the plague. No less than eight of your members are currently infected with it, one of them so severely he is likely to pass out unconscious in a matter of hours and not wake up. If you doubt my credentials you only need to ask Morvovio, whose arm I set and bandaged initially on our first trip through. So again I offer my name, my hand, and the cure, in the name of hospitality for those who need it.”

The only time Geralt had ever seen an elf more conflicted was when he had convinced Iorveth to be led in chains in front of the blue stripes commander, now the elf’s friend. Geralt felt himself grinning at the memory. Isengrim balked and in a moment of hesitation and hope he looked back at his elves. Geralt peered out at the small group, hope was in their eyes. Isengrim turned back to Regis and hesitantly took the vampire’s hand. Regis shook it firmly, placing his other hand on top of the elf’s.

“Strange times call for strange bedfellows.” Regis said, smiling slightly, his posture easing.

“Forgive me for my rash actions Geralt de Corvo Bianco.” Isengrim said, his eyes softening. “Iorveth really did speak highly of you; I do him a great dishonor for treating you so poorly.”

Geralt felt the tension ease and reached behind his back, sheathing his sword. Regis stepped away and towards the horses. Geralt offered his gloved hand as well and the elf shook it firmly.

“How do you know of the plague?” Isengrim asked, his brown eyes wide. “It came up like a thief in the night. Dol Blathanna is ravaged with it.”

Geralt felt his eyes narrowing.

“And who among you fell ill first.” Geralt asked. The elf winced.

Geralt sighed.

“You know she renounced the Scoia’tael.” Isengrim said, his eyes cold. “She renounced me. It’s hard to feel sorry for her.”

“Is she still alive?” Geralt asked, knowing full well they were talking about Francesca Findabair, the ruler of the free elven state of Dol Blathanna.

“She is being held in a state of suspended animation for the time being.” Isengrim said as he made a motion with his hands; the elves began to disperse. Regis came back and set his satchel on the non-crumbled part of the wall and began setting out his tools. Geralt could feel him listening in on their conversation and he thanked Regis through the bond, causing the vampire to smile while he laid out the tools.

“How bad is it?” Geralt asked, leading Isengrim to Regis as the vampire set up.

“Let’s just say that if my spies have it right, and they have yet to fail me, she has lost her title as the most beautiful being in the world.” He said, his eyes distant and cold. “She sits in her bed in a state of rot. Her feet and her hands black, and sores cover her body. She will likely not recover fully, and it will take many years to hide the damage if it’s not too late.”

Geralt felt oddly pleased at that on a level that ran deep. She had been one of the catalysts for the coup at Thanedd, and she had been directly responsible for sowing the seeds of magical hatred in the north. She was one of the single worst beings on the face of the planet as far as Geralt was concerned. As he studied the elf he knew the elf felt much the same. More recently Francesca had refused to come to their aid when the hunt confronted them on Skellige, refusing to leave her cage to stop the world from ending. That had sat sourly in Geralt’s stomach for quite some time.

“It won’t be a major loss if she does die.” Geralt said, shrugging. “She was barren much like the rest of the mages. The Emperor…”

Geralt balked. His eyes wide, he saw what was happening. Isengrim caught his pause and a small smile played across his features.

“The Emperor will likely place one on the throne who much better fits the title of ruler.” Isengrim said. “Though I would bet that not even our young elf friend realizes what’s in store for him eventually.”

“Have you heard that Vernon Roche was placed on the throne of Temeria and Redania?” Geralt asked, looking to the elf. The elf paled.

“No I had not.” The Elf turned to look at the witcher, his brown eyes wide.

“Well he has, and do you know who was beside him when it was announced?” Geralt felt himself grinning. The elf looked at him like he grew a second head. The elf started to talk but the words got caught and came out as a squeak.

“Iorveth was standing beside Roche as it was announced.” Geralt smirked, watching as what he had painted in his mind to be the most stoic elf in the world suddenly collapsed to his knees, causing his men to panic and surround him. Geralt knelt down at eye level with the elf as Regis turned.

“There was also another announcement, one that all your men would love to hear.” Geralt said, his grin turning feral as the elf looked at him. “The Scoia’tael have all been pardoned. All of them. Any that have died are to receive rewards of valor posthumously, and a stipend will be paid to the families. All the Scoia’tael that are in prison are to be released, something I am sure will start filtering throughout the empire as time passes. I am sure there is more to it than that, nuances and such that I have not personally heard of yet, but that is the overview.”

The other elves had crowded around as Geralt had stood and approached Regis. He brushed his shoulder against the vampire and smiled as the elves began to quickly chatter and talk, all the while Isengrim sat looking at his hands.

“I do believe you have broken the poor elf.” Regis chuckled. Morvovio glanced down at the elf his head tilting curiously.

“Pointy ear not look broke.” The troll’s voice was full of concern as he looked down.

“Figure of speech Morvovio.” Geralt said. “Means I gave him some news that is making him think very, very hard.”

“Morvovio think hard too sometimes.” Morvovio walked over and touched his uninjured hand to the elf’s shoulder, causing him to look up.

“Much news.” Morvovio said his voice rumbling. “Much happy? No kill Dh’oine? No kill Barbor Surgon?”

“Neén, Hen Carraigh, neén.” The elf breathed. Morvovio grumbled something in his own language, and the elf nodded and wiped at his eyes.

“I have everything set up for when you are ready.” Regis spoke softly, addressing the elf; his eyes warm now his tone inviting. “Let’s get your men seen to, and then we shall be on our way.”

“Curvoil, see to the horses, give them some of the apples and carrots.” Isengrim barked, regaining his function and again wiping at his eyes. “We don’t have much Gwynbleidd, but what we have is yours.”

“All we ask, to be honest, is that as soon as we give you the cure and the instructions on how to make it, that we be allowed on our way.” Geralt said simply. “We need to get back, there are things set in motion now that are going to be impossible to stop, and the sooner we get back and prepare, the better.”

The scarred elf stood up and brushed himself off. The other elves had broken off and were chatting excitedly amongst themselves, as the elf with the leather cap and feather darted off to see to the horses.

“This news is momentous.” Isengrim said looking at Geralt, tears still threatening in his eyes. “More so than you can possibly imagine.”

“Don’t get your hopes up too much,” Geralt said, walking to the wall beside where Regis set up and leaning on it. “You know how politics goes; however, there are things now at play that will have far reaching effects for those involved.”

The elf nodded, trying to steel his expression.

“You mentioned that you don’t have a lot.” Geralt said as the elf approached Regis. Regis for his part gave the elf a sniff tilting his head back and letting the elf’sscent roll over the sensitive organ in his nose. “Are you heading for Beauclair after this?”

The elf looked at the vampire, slightly disconcerted as Regis made a full medical profile in his head about the elf, his ailments, his vices, and his injuries.

“No we are to meet with the caravan that is heading here and provide cover for it from potential threats.” Isengrim spoke softly. “We were on our way here anyway for other reasons when we got commandeered.”

“Do you have money enough for supplies and such? It’s a long ride to Vizima.” Geralt said, raising his eyebrows.

“You are clear of the plague Isengrim.” Regis said, nodding and turning to pick up the needle with the inoculation in it. “I am going to need you to expose your hip for the injection.”

The elf grunted and released the large armored belt from around his waist, pulling his robe open. Under it was a full set of chainmail armor and plate. He struggled momentarily to expose his hip, and Regis prepped him.

“No, unfortunately, we do not.” Isengrim hissed as the injection went in. “We have been living on scraps now for months.”

Geralt frowned as Regis bandaged the elf.

“Let me get you something that will help.” Geralt said, pushing off the wall and darting down to the horses. Curvoil was petting Roach softly and whispering to her while he fed Vlad, who was stomping impatiently, a carrot half way out of the horse’s mouth. Geralt retrieved the coin pouch that Silas had given them back in Dillingen and smiled to himself. The elf looked at him curiously.

“Thank you for seeing to them, Curvoil.” Geralt nodded to the elf. “They have been ridden far today, and we still have a ways to go before we are home.”

“I will see to them Gwynbleidd.” The elf said, finally petting Vlad on the neck. “They will want for nothing in the few moments you are here. Sorry for my earlier reaction, you know why we are here, and the sight of the Il… vampire was inopportune. Forgive me for being blunt, but why do you trust him?”

Geralt frowned.

“Forgive me for being blunt, but he is my mate.” Geralt stated, narrowing his eyes as the elf’s widened.

“What… but… how?” The elf stammered.

“The _what_ and _how_ is our own business.” Geralt sighed. “It’s difficult to explain to someone who has never experienced it, but we are bound to one another. His interests are mine, and mine his. He is a humanist, and a trained barber surgeon. He wants the life here to thrive just as much as I do, as we do.”

The elf nodded slowly.

“I cannot begin to understand,” the elf spoke shaking his head. “I wish you the best Gwynbleidd, and for your sake, I wish him the best as well.”

Geralt nodded again and headed back up the embankment to the wall where Regis was now animatedly talking about his training at Oxenfurt to Isengrim. Isengrim was taken aback and was looking at the verbose vampire in wonder. Geralt approached and stood beside the elf as Regis began to launch into his ideas about convergent evolution and why human, vampire, and elven physiology was so similar despite being formed on different worlds at different times. Isengrim looked overwhelmed, and Geralt laughed.

“Well it’s true, there are too many things that are happenstance for us to just ignore the similarities between our species.” The vampire stated, glaring at Geralt as one of the other elves approached. Regis gave him a sniff. The vampire winced and pursed his lips. “Plague I am afraid, please disrobe, I must see what the damage is and treat it accordingly.”

While Regis was distracted seeing to the elf Geralt grabbed Isengrim by the shoulder and led the scarred elf away from listening ears and back to where Morvovio had sat down.

“As Dhu Evn’gesaen, I am the Emperor’s mouthpiece.” Geralt spoke as the elf stiffened slightly. “That being said I am acting in accordance with the empire when I give you this.”

Geralt handed over the large sack of crowns to the elf.

“You don’t get to protest this or try to hand it back.” Geralt said as the elf began to open his mouth. “It is payment for your help. See to it that you resupply and distribute what is left equally among your men. That is an order.”

The elf’s hand tightened around the sack as his mouth worked.

“Yes, Ceas'raetgloir.” The elf breathed “Thank you Gwynbleidd, I am in your debt.”

“I did not do this to have you in my debt, Aen Seidhe.” Geralt smiled and patted the elf on the shoulder with his sword callused hand.

“Iorveth said you were different.” The shake in the elf’s voice was the only hint he gave at his emotional state. “I had heard stories, both great and terrible about the White Wolf of Kaer Morhen. I am thankful that fate has brought you to us.”

Geralt nodded and turned to Morvovio who had sat quietly and watched the whole exchange between the elf and the witcher.

“Morvovio, Regis and I will travel back to the palace.” Geralt said. “Stay with the elves, and guard them till their task is done. Keep your eyes open.”

The troll nodded and grumbled low in his throat, the sound like rocks moving against one another.

“Regis is a special case, you know that. He is a vampire, but one that doesn’t travel the same path as the others.” Geralt intoned, sidling beside the troll as the elf looked at them. “You, you have something special about you, you know it too don’t you, the crystals that grow on your back are unlike anything else in this world.”

“Yes… Morvovio have… purpose.” The troll grumbled. “Morvovio different, needed.”

“Those crystals that grow on your back disrupt the powers of those like Regis.” Geralt said, causing Isengrim to balk and the troll to blink. “In the event that a vampire comes, all you will have to do is grab them and their powers will be negated. You can protect against even the fiercest of foes Morvovio. It’s almost a curse, but you can do it. So protect Morvovio. Protect everyone as best you can.”

“He can stop Ichaerlleidr?” Isengrim hissed, looking up at the troll with new eyes.

“Dead in their tracks.” Geralt nodded. “There may come a time when he is needed.”

The troll stood up and growled in his own language, determination washing over his form as he stood tall and strong over Geralt and Isengrim.

“Morvovio .” The troll said, looking over the elves who were now chattering excitedly amongst themselves. One had pulled out a lute and was strumming and starting to sing; something crude about the currently indisposed leader of Dol Blathanna. The others laughed and began adding their own choruses to it. “Morvovio like pointy ears, like music. Will protect.”

The troll walked over to the group of elves that were singing as Geralt and Isengrim made their way back to Regis. Regis was chatting happily though the feeling of being ill at ease had not left the vampire. Geralt watched as the vampire worked quickly finishing up the last of the elves that needed inoculation. One of the elves, the one Regis had spoken of earlier that was close to the later stages of the disease, was lying against the stone wall, his head lolling. Geralt could smell beggartick as he approached.

“We got to him just in time.” Regis said as Isengrim leaned down. “Any later and he would have likely not made it, or suffered from effects that would have been impossible to heal. I gave him a sedative to see him through tonight. He will need plenty of rest and fluids, but he should be on the mend shortly.”

Isengrim nodded and brushed the hair out of the elf’s eyes. The elf smiled drunkenly.

Regis began to pack up swiftly; it was time they were on their way. Geralt went down and collected the horses, and led them back up the embankment and onto the main road.

“Geralt, Regis, I wish you well.” Isengrim spoke as they mounted their horses. “I hope one day we will cross paths again, I cannot thank you enough for what you two have done for us. Vafail, Gwynbleidd, vafail barber surgeon, safe travels.”

“Morvovio watch.” The troll said, approaching Regis and Geralt. “Morvovio wait. Will help, will protect.”

“Morvovio, we will meet again, I am sure of it.” Regis smiled as Geralt nodded to the troll. “Keep care of your arm, and keep care of yourself.”

The troll grunted, and the elves began to sing again as Geralt and Regis headed down the underground highway to Beauclair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of stuff starting to coaless... YAY ELVES
> 
> hehehhehe


	30. Trammel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Regis finally reach Beauclair, and then home
> 
>   
> ********
> 
> “Been so worried for you both.” She said, looking out to the distance. “With the plague, and all the strangeness happening around the duchy, then you two rushing off after you got that horrible wound on your neck. It’s almost too much for one to bear.”
> 
> Geralt felt his heart warm as he regarded the pensive expression on the old woman’s face. She turned to look at him, catching his warm expression, and laughed.
> 
> “If anyone had told me when I was young that in my golden years I would be mothering a witcher, I would have laughed them straight out of the duchy.” Marlene smiled and patted Geralt’s arm.
> 
> “I am old enough that you could be my daughter.” Geralt laughed and Marlene’s eyes crinkled with mirth.
> 
> “Ah Geralt, what am I to do with you?” She sighed, smiling sadly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!  
>  **  
> **  
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**
> 
> Angry Geralt  
> Angry Regis

By the time Regis and Geralt made it back to the palace, they both had expected it to be quiet and still. However, fate rarely smiled on them, and the second they led the horses up from the path they were grabbed, and rushed into Damien de la Tour’s office. They took the servants halls, which seemed even more crowded now than Geralt had ever seen them. He could immediately feel that the atmosphere they had left had changed considerably, and everyone was on edge. They actually approached the office through a hidden door behind Damien’s desk, keeping out of sight of prying eyes. Geralt was exhausted, as was Regis, both were saddle sore, and both were hungry. 

When they were ushered in Geralt felt arms closing in around him, which made him startle. He moved to remove her but thought better of it. Regis scowled however, and Geralt felt a whip of jealousy, unintended, flit through the bond. Geralt looked at Regis helplessly.

“Good gods, I am glad to see you Geralt,” Yennefer said, releasing Geralt and hugging Regis as well. The vampire stiffened before gently dislodging her. Geralt could feel his bloodlust spike and the vampire’s nostrils flared. Geralt inhaled as well, mimicking the vampire, and cursed out loud when the spike of bloodlust ripped through him.

The sweep of magic from Yennefer was expected at this point as she was dislodged. However when the magic swept over Geralt he rebuffed it, startling Yennefer and causing her to narrow her eyes. 

“You smell, _atrocious_ , both of you.” Yennefer hissed. Her violet eyes darkened as she pointedly tried again to sweep Geralt’s mind. This time Geralt had enough and was annoyed, and he rebuffed her hard enough that she staggered.

“Enough of that Yen, it’s been a long hard ride, and I have little patience for this.” Geralt snapped, causing the sorceress to pause. 

“Since when have you been able to block me?” Yennefer asked, her brows furrowing with confusion and more than a little hidden hurt. Geralt regarded her silently. 

“Lady Yennefer, we have indeed ridden hard, so we must ask, politely, that this conversation be left for another day.” Regis moved to stand next to Geralt. 

“Yes please, I am dead on my feet, and that woman is driving me slowly insane. I would like to get this over with as quickly as possible so I may retire and gain some respite.” Damien said, a bottle of vodka on his desk alongside a shot glass. “We received your raven, we knew you would be returning. Would that you had arrived but a day earlier! It would have made things so much simpler.”

“The storm’s caught us.” Geralt said, practically hobbling over to one of the chairs and sitting down in it with a huff. Regis followed suit, grabbing his own chair and pushing it next to Geralt. “What woman?”

Geralt felt Regis becoming agitated. Without thought, he reached down and put his hand on Regis’ knee, patting him in reassurance. Regis looked at Geralt, his eyes tired. 

_They will know_. Regis spoke through the bond, trepidation filling the vampire. 

Geralt smiled wolfishly.

 _So they will, and so they **need** to_. Geralt spoke back. _You are **mine** , I am yours. There must be no doubt in their minds that this is the way it is. _

Yennefer’s eyes narrowed as it focused on Geralt’s hand, and the ring.

“I see much has changed in your short time away.” She hissed and Geralt felt her again try to sweep his mind. He had enough and pushed back with enough force that a gust ripped through the office, sending papers scattering and causing Yennefer to catch herself on Damien’s desk. Damien cursed as he grabbed at the papers.

“Enough.” Geralt spoke lowly, a growl building in throat; his mutations activating and his eyes glowing. “You will leave this for another day Yennefer, or I will be walking out of here.”

Yennefer steadied herself and looked over at Geralt, her eyes wide. She leaned on Damien’s desk and picked up a spoon from a silverware set that had been scattered at the blast. She cursed as she regarded Geralt and Regis. Regis put his hand over Geralt’s on his knee and stared straight back at the woman.

“Turnabout is fair play, I suppose.” Yennefer said, twirling the ornate piece of cutlery between her fingers as a small smile played across her lips. “It’s an interesting sensation to be looking through the other side of the window in the dark.”

“Yennefer, stop it.” Damien groused, finally putting his papers to rights. “Being childish and petty is the last thing we need right now.”

Yennefer regarded the bald headed man, grinning.

“But it is so much fun!” Yennefer drawled, setting the spoon down and looking to Geralt and Regis, who were both not amused. “I suppose there is only room for one childish and petty person in the palace. Fine Damien, I will put on my big girl panties.”

A commotion outside the door, and a shout, turned all heads in the room. The door swiftly opened, and a frazzled looking Morvran Voorhis, in his nightclothes, slipped through and slammed the door.

“I swear to the great sun that woman will harry me to death!” Morvran cursed before looking around the room, noticing Geralt and Regis.

“Good gods I hadn’t realized you were back!” Morvran gasped, his blond hair askew. Geralt smelled something, something familiar. Something that made his hackles stand on end.

“Yennefer, what woman?” Geralt growled. 

“Who do you think?” Yennefer snapped. “His Royal Majesty sent her ahead via porthole because he was sick of dealing with her. Fringilla Vigo, of course.”

Regis’ hand gripped Geralt’s so tight he could feel the bones in his hand grinding together. Geralt willed himself calm with his mutations as Regis looked down and tensed.

“Is she contained?” Geralt asked firmly, his voice carrying a dangerous edge.

“Of course she is Geralt, we have her in dimeritium bracelets that are enchanted by yours truly so she has no access to magic.” Yennefer said flippantly, glaring at Morvran as he seated himself on the couch in the room. “That being said, you need to know that she is still under investigation and until that ‘tribunal’ finishes up, she is off limits.”

“I am sorry that we have a set of laws that govern us, Lady Yennefer.” Morvran hissed right back, glaring at the woman. “Until we have irrefutable proof, and she has been charged formally, we cannot do anything more by law than limit her access to magic.”

“You mean to tell me that she has full reign of the palace and she can come and go as she pleases?” Geralt felt himself beginning to boil over. “Regis, bubble… _now_.”

Regis did so, and then Yennefer added another layer. Geralt stood up, his mutations activating and his posture becoming far more menacing than any in the room besides Regis had ever seen. His aura whipped around him. 

“I am going to say this once.” Geralt growled. “You all are colossal idiots for allowing her here. You know what she has done? What she is still doing? It’s absolutely grotesque and so help me I will end her!”

“You will do no such thing.” Morvran said, causing Geralt’s fury to shift towards him. He approached the slighter man like he was stalking prey. He felt his teeth begin to itch, and his fangs begin to elongate. Regis stood quickly and grabbed Geralt by the arm, forcing wave after wave of calm over him. The witcher snarled, looking down at the man who was trying to sink into the couch. 

“WE ARE ALL ON THE SAMED DAMNED SIDE!” Damien stood up, slamming his hands on the desk. Geralt’s eyes were still trained on Morvran, his breath coming in quick pants as he smelled fear coming off the man. “GERALT DE CORVO BIANCO, I WILL RESCIND YOUR LAND RIGHTS IF YOU DO NOT STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!!”

Yennefer was stunned silent at the display, her eyes wide. Geralt growled and turned around. He stalked back to the chair, and sat down with enough force that the chair creaked with the strain. Regis approached him and sat back, this time putting his hand on Geralt’s leg. Geralt felt his misery mounting until Regis allowed his scent to go rocketing through the room. Geralt inhaled deeply on instinct, and felt his rage quelling. 

“So that’s you…” Wonder was evident in Yennefer’s voice as she regarded the vampire. She took a deep breath as the smell of rain filled the room.

“If you all would please inform us of why we are here so we may go?” Regis spoke, his voice soft yet fierce. “We are all allies in this, and it will do no one any good to be at each other’s throats the second we get back. I speak for Geralt in this instance.”

Geralt was still trying to get himself under control as Damien sat down, and Morvran attempted to compose himself. He felt useless, hopeless, and allowed Regis to answer for him as he tried to get his spinning mind to settle.

“We received your missive about the items that will need to be retrieved from Dillingen.” Morvran said, clearing his throat. “As we currently lack mages, we have been unable to recover them.”

Geralt’s eyes whipped to Yennefer.

“You will go, tomorrow, and retrieve those items.” Geralt spat with venom. “No excuses. Back there is everything you need to bring charges against her.”

“Geralt, it’s not that simple…” Yennefer started.

“It _is_ that simple!” Geralt growled, leaning forward and locking gazes with Yennefer. “You sent me to Lambert and Keira without a second thought! You have access to the magic to do so as easily as if you blinked! You will retrieve those items tomorrow, all of them! If I return to the palace and they are not here, I will raze this place myself, along with everyone in it. That is not an idle threat!”

“Geralt, you can no-” Geralt was over to her in a flash so fast he didn’t understand how he had gotten to her. He grabbed her shoulder hard enough to bruise, causing her to wince in pain.

“While you were sitting here playing politics, I was burning and burying children.” Geralt hissed, his fangs aching for her blood in his frustration. He smelled fear rolling off of her. “You will collect those items tomorrow, is that clear?”

“As crystal, Geralt.” Yennefer winced. “Please you’re hurting me.” 

Geralt released her and went and sat back down, trying to get ahold of himself. He needed a release; it was building and circling around his head. He felt trapped in a nightmare. Regis’ hand gripped his thigh, his claws finding a way around the armor. Pain lanced through him, and Geralt grabbed onto it as Regis’ claws pierced his thigh. He focused on it, willing himself not to move and just feel the pain in his leg. 

“Let’s start there, shall we?” Morvran spoke carefully, clearing his throat. “Geralt, what exactly happened?”

Geralt focused on the pain and began to relay the story in full to the assembled people. As he spoke, the others’ expressions turned dour, and tension built in the room. When he finally managed to finish his retelling, he allowed himself to feel the exhaustion of the past days in full. He relayed every detail he could, minus his transformations, and him and Regis’ romps. All three humans in the room looked startled, and cowed as Geralt made sure to leave nothing out, leaving nothing to the imagination. When he finally drew silent four bells rang in the distance. Yennefer stood without preamble, her face a stony mask, as she shuddered involuntarily.

“I am going now to arrange for transport.” She said, dropping her bubble. “Damien, you will have to take charge of things while I am gone.”

Damien looked to the sorceress and nodded, his hands folded in front of his mouth, pensive. His eyes turned to steel and his shoulders were hunched. Morvran sat on the couch with his head low, his hair obscuring his face, as his hands worked the air. Geralt could feel Regis’ eyes on all of them in turn as well. He could feel the vampire’s desire to rush out of the room and tear up anything and everything within claw’s reach.

“Your delay in fetching these items will have a rippling effect, Lady Yennefer.” Regis spoke for the first time, his frustration roiling through the bond like molten metal. “I pray for your sake that your selfish actions will not have any lasting effects.”

Yennefer looked at the vampire coolly, her violet eyes full of hurt and regret. With a quick spell she ripped open a tear in the room and stepped through the portal. Geralt felt like he could breathe again and he wilted; his will to fight draining with the last of his stamina.

“How long?” Geralt asked, looking at Morvran. “How long have you known?”

Morvran moved to speak, but Regis spoke first.

“They have known for three days.” Regis spat. “Three days of inaction. I sent the messages with my own personal crows. They reported back to me when we were in Sodden that the message had been delivered the day previous.”

Morvran looked down, wringing his hands. 

Geralt stood up, causing the two men in the room to tense. He regarded them both.

“I have done my part, and now I will wait for Orianna.” Geralt said firmly. “You will not hear from me until I am ready to contact you. I need a carriage back to my estate, Roach and Vlad will rest here for a day, and I will send Barnabas-Basil to collect them.”

Damien stood and looked crossly at Morvran. The blond haired man was still looking down at the floor, his elbows resting on his knees. 

“It shall be done Geralt.” Damien said, stepping from around his desk. Regis stood as well and both Geralt and the vampire fell into lockstep behind Damien. Geralt couldn’t believe what had happened. He hadn’t expected them to just sit on their laurels and do nothing, Yennefer especially. The idea that they had been sitting on the information for days made Geralt seethe. He had reached a point where his anger had hardened into diamond and sat heavy in his chest as he followed the man out the door. Damien started and sputtered when he entered the hallway. Letho and Berengar flanked the doorway, though how much they had heard was beyond Geralt at the moment.

When Geralt saw who waited for them beyond the door, just out of reach of the witchers guarding the space, the diamond in his chest turned to ice, numbing him from the inside until his anger transformed, leaving him feeling cold and detached. 

“Geralt, it is so good to see you...” Fringilla purred, leaning up against the wall. “And Regis too, how quaint. It’s like the old gang is back together again.”

“Letho, Berengar, escort us please.” Damien said, shooting the mage a pointed look as she grinned.

“Fringilla.” Geralt said, his eyes hard and harsh. Images flitted through his head of Silas’ descriptions, of his own romps with the woman. He felt dirty, disgusted, vile… 

When she moved to step in front of him he had enough. He pushed into Fringilla with enough concentrated force of Aard that she lost her footing and collapsed onto the ground. With a shaky hand she reached up to her nose, which was bleeding.

“Geralt!” Berengar barked, stuck between attempting to draw his sword, and helping the mage back up. 

“I suggest that you keep your hands to yourself from now on.” Geralt said coolly at Fringilla, as Damien quickly stepped around her.

Geralt then looked at Letho, sending a message with his eyes that he was tired, hurt, sore and annoyed. Letho caught it and sighed, his stance relaxing. Geralt passed by the two witchers, Regis behind him. Berengar grabbed the bald headed witcher by the shoulder and followed them.

As they walked down the hallway Fringilla began to laugh. “You know not the forces you are up against Geralt.”Her shrill and unhinged cackles echoed off the stones. 

When they finally got to the stables Geralt leaned up against one of the posts, his hand finding his temples. Damien was currently ordering the sleepy stable master to ready a carriage. The harshly barked  orders from Damian to the stable master made Geralt’s head throb. Regis approached him his moonshine flask in his hand. 

“Care for a snifter? It will take off the edge.” Regis offered, putting his arm around Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt greedily accepted the flask and took a large swallow. He felt a shudder run through him; it was the aged stuff from Fen Carn.  He was just going in for another pull as Letho approached. 

“Let me get you up to speed on what is happening. Gonna be a rough overview since we don’t have a ton of time.” Letho’s voice rumbled. “Eskel is in the infirmary; there was a bruxa attack while you were out. She clawed your dopplers here, and then tore up Eskel, ‘cause we were calling him Geralt the whole time. We took her down. She had some nasty scars and burns from a silver chain. Said she ran into you, and said some pretty crass stuff about you, and the higher vampire. I would be hard pressed to believe it, however…”

Geralt stared at bald witcher as he took another draw of the moonshine. Letho drew in a breath, his lip curling and his teeth exposed. 

“Before you make assumptions, let’s get it out there in the open.” Regis turned to Geralt and the white haired witcher nodded. “We are a mated pair, Letho.”

Letho froze mid movement and blinked at the higher vampire. Berengar appeared beside the large witcher, smirking.

“Well, that was blunter then I was expecting.” Letho rumbled, causing Geralt to shrug. Letho narrowed his eyes at Geralt and crossed his wide arms.

“You are an enigma, Geralt de Corvo Bianco.” Letho said as Geralt cracked his eye open. “I have tried to figure you out for years now, but I can’t, which is unnerving. Hell, I have known Berengar here for less time than you, and I know him better.”

Regis leaned against Geralt, grinning to himself as the two spoke.

“I am simple Letho, and that’s why you can’t figure me out.” Geralt grumbled, looking at the taller witcher. “All I care about are family, friends, and keeping food in my stomach. There are no ulterior motives, or true driving forces behind who I am, unless they relate to one of those three things. Regis just happened to cross that boundary from friend to family, but it didn’t happen as quickly as it seems to all of you. He traveled with me, he was a member of my original hansa. This likely would have happened sooner, if, as Ciri puts it, I didn’t have the emotional intelligence of a potato.”

“What about Tress? And Yen?” Berengar asked, regarding the two. Geralt snorted at the mispronunciation of Triss’ name.

“Triss made her bed, as Letho can attest to.” Geralt cocked his head slightly his eyes darting over to the large witcher, and Letho nodded in agreement. “Yennefer, well, I have not been on her docket for quite some time.”

“I would say it was no one’s business, however, the nose knows, and all that nonsense.” Geralt said, corking the bottle and letting his head rest against the post. “How’s Eskel?” 

“More wounded pride than anything.” Letho drawled, his hand scratching at the stubble. “Got a nasty slash from her claws. We were hauling a box and had just delivered it. Both of us were hot and stopped at one of the fountains for a drink. There was this pretty blond sitting at the fountain and he decided to strip his armor off and rinse off the sweat. Rookie mistake. Won’t be doing that again. Keira’s finally here and she’s in the process of healing him the rest of the way as we speak.”

“There are other things.” Berengar said. “The loyalists have started some civil unrest, ill timed. Yennefer has been attempting to deal with it beside Damien. When Fringilla arrived it was like someone had set off a bomb, and it’s been nothing but one distraction after another.”

Geralt wanted to feel bad for Yennefer and her plight, but he couldn’t. In his mind she should have known that what Fringilla was doing was delaying the inevitable. It was obvious from the outside. 

“What of the plague?” Regis asked, regarding the two witchers.

“Still, plague-ish.” Letho shrugged. “It’s an all-out epidemic, not just here anymore but everywhere. Keira said that the Empress is sick as well, though she is on the mend. The plague has been reported as far north as Kovir, and as far south as Oran. Apparently the plague was originally only carried by fleas, but the one we have going on now can be transmitted through touch. I am not one to understand most of these things, but what I do understand is alchemy, it’s my specialty and unless something is done to grow the mushrooms and herbs needed for the cure, we are going to run out.”

“We may run out, but Kaer Morhen has a seed and fungal library that is fully stocked, and tended in a vault beneath the keep.” Geralt said, looking at Letho. “We have manuals on how to tend and grow what is needed. The plague cure is based on the witcher concoctions for the Trial of the Grasses, albeit at a much smaller scale.”

“You may want to let Keira know.” Letho rumbled. “Lambert has been fussing and futzing. He didn’t want to say anything because he’s not quite sure what he should and shouldn’t say regarding us.”

“Neither did we if we are to be honest.” Berengar eyed the vampire. Regis had pulled out his journal and was hastily scribbling something down. 

“We are at a unique spot.” Geralt said, sighing when Damien started yelling at someone. “From a witchering standpoint there are only a handful left of us. We need to protect our secrets from those who would misuse them, but at the same time, we also need to come to terms with the fact that we are a dying breed. A lot of what was done in the walls of Kaer Morhen is medically relevant and can be used for the general populace. We need to elect a leader of the witchers.”

Berengar and Letho rumbled their agreements.

“Who would you elect?” Letho asked, watching Damien as the man went storming past them with a retinue of men; his sleeves rolled up and axle grease on his arms. Damien made a sharp turn towards the blacksmith’s quarters and the yelling started anew.

“Eskel, hands down.” Geralt replied without hesitation. “Though I don’t know any from the other schools, Eskel studied under Vesemir the longest, and the hardest. Vesemir was training him to take over the keep when he inevitably met his end.”

“He seems like he has a good head on his shoulders, but he also seems to overthink things.” Letho pondered. “I take that back… He is a powder keg waiting to go off. Dunno if I would want that under my boots.”

“What about from your school, Letho?” Berengar asked, nudging up against the larger man’s crossed arms. Letho actually winced, making Geralt raise his bow.

“The only two left are me and master Ivar.” Letho rumbled, his shoulders hunching. “I… am hesitant to put myself forward due to my past, it would likely be the political start and end of witchers as we know it. Ivar, well… he is actually at the temple of Melitele in Vizima right now. I… had to commit him.”

Geralt stood up from the wall and regarded the bald headed witcher. His mood shift caused Regis to look up from his writings. 

“After Serrit and Auckes died, I made the trip down to Perepult, I found him raving.” Letho said, his eyes distant, his expression drawn. “I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He said he needed to burn everything. I wound up hogtying him and got him to Vizima.”

“Your school was in Perepult?” Geralt balked, this was the first time he was hearing anything about the school of the Vipers. 

“ _Was_ being the key word there.” Letho said bitterly. “Emhyr promised to rebuild it. Now it’s just a building being reclaimed by the swamp. I gathered everything we had and holed it up in a safe place; all of our writings and books we gathered over the years. Would have loved to see the school rebuilt.” 

“How could you rebuild it?” Berengar asked. Geralt had been about to ask the same thing. Regis was now paying close attention to the conversation.

“Yeah, the only place witchers were created was Kaer Morhen.” Geralt said, furrowing his brows. “We don’t even have records of a Viper school, and there is no way possible for the knowledge of witcher creation to get out of the keep.”

Letho looked at Geralt like he had grown a second head. 

“Well we had a school, how could there have been Viper school witchers if we weren’t able to create them?” Letho asked, his own brows drawing downwards. 

“Do you have memories of being trained there? Of growing up there?” Geralt asked, suddenly wary.

Letho got quiet, his eyes going wide and his hands falling to his sides.

“Letho?” Berengar turned to the larger witcher as Letho froze in place. 

“I have memories… memories of a place.” Letho said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not the school, but elsewhere… K… Kaer Morhen.”

Letho looked up to Geralt, his eyes wide in confusion. 

“I knew that place seemed familiar.” Letho breathed. Berengar narrowed his eyes. “Gods, I was there before… before…”

“His memory has been tampered with.” Regis said simply, standing and approaching Letho; his black eyes taking in the witcher in full. “His heart rate has increased, his cortisol levels have increased, and there is a very specific imbalance in his vasopressin production that I have seen many times in people that have suffered from traumatic brain injuries, especially regarding those who have had their memories tampered with.”

“How the heck do you know that?” Berengar snapped, causing Regis to frown.

“I am a higher vampire.” Regis snipped right back. “My sense of smell is a million times keener than a witcher’s. I am also a barber surgeon and have been treating people with injuries and ailments for longer than you have been walking the Path. I know what I smell; I smell the same things in Geralt, though his body has healed from his issues for the most part. Letho has an ongoing issue.”

Letho put his hands to his temples and groaned. Geralt approached the larger man and stood opposite Berengar, passing a look between them. Geralt placed a hand on the larger man’s shoulders. He was shaking. Geralt’s concern raced through the bond, something that he was unable to voice, something deep. When Geralt’s amulet began to pulse Letho looked at him for a moment. Regis approached and took Letho’s large hand into both of his, and the large witcher looked at the vampire.

“This is a mystery that can be solved.” Regis’ voice was quiet and solid. “You helped calm me when I needed it. It is only fair that I help you now.”

Letho’s shaking increased and he winced.

“Not… used to depending on another for help.” Letho said, his voice venerable and unguarded. Geralt squeezed the larger man’s shoulder.

“There are too few of us not to help.” Geralt said, looking at Berengar who just eyed Letho; a strange look in his eyes.

“You helped me with the monster problems I was having.” Berengar said matter-of-factly. “Without you I wouldn’t have found my way back to the Path.”

“The first thing that needs to be done, is resting.” Regis sighed, letting go of Letho’s hand while looking around. Damien flew past them again with the smith in tow. “Is this the one carriage in the whole of Toussaint?” 

Geralt laughed and then pointedly yawned, withdrawing as Letho began to relax again and the shaking subsided.

“At this point we could have walked home and gotten there faster.” Regis said, looking up to where the smith was now leaning down and fitting something to the carriage. Geralt brushed over his mind, he was… he was agitated, and mentally flying through potential causes of Letho’s predicament, something Geralt didn’t quite get the gist of. The vampire smiled tiredly and brushed soothingly up against Geralt’s mind.

There was a loud noise and a slam of a hammer several times. A U-joint was being refitted on the carriage. 

Damien approached, his hands full of grease and a streak of it on his forehead. He was truly smiling; something Geralt hadn’t seen him do in a long time. 

“Thank you for your patience, gentlemen.” He was grinning from ear to ear. “You will be able to disembark momentarily.”

“You seem chipper for someone who just had to cajole a team of inept workers to replace an axle.” Geralt drawled. 

“Sometimes I forget what it’s like to work with my hands.” Damien wiped his hands on his formal outfit, cleanliness be damned. “This plague business has had me cooped up in my office for so long I almost forgot what it’s like!”

Geralt patted Letho on the arm.

“Go rest, you too Berengar.” Geralt said, his words edging on an order.

The two witchers nodded.

“Let us rest for a few days.” Regis said, scribbling something down in his journal. “When Geralt and I return to the land of the living, just an expression of course, we will call you all to the estate and have a sit down to discuss matters.”

Letho and Berengar nodded and took off to the palace. Damien regarded the vampire and Geralt with a raised brow.

“What was that about?” He asked, his mustache twitching. 

“Witcher things.” Geralt replied, his eyes hardening. “None of your concern.”

Damien frowned and sighed as the carriage driver approached.

“It’s ready for them, Sir.” The man said.

“Geralt? Regis?” Damien regarded the two. “Take some rest, unless something of dire importance happens, we will not bother you. You have earned it. If problems arise we should be able to handle it from here on out.”

“Just remember what I said, Damien,” Geralt warned him, his eyes sharp. “If I find out the investigation has been put to the wayside again… my threat was not an idle one.”

Damien swallowed as Geralt glared at him. Without further preamble the vampire and the witcher turned, approaching the carriage. 

As soon as they started moving, Geralt closed his eyes, and was lost to the realm of sleep.

 

********

 

Geralt woke up groggily. His mind was in a haze of weird dreams and it took him a moment to register where he was. He blinked and looked around the dimly lit room. He was home. Geralt sighed; Regis’ weight was settled beside him and the vampire was snoring softly. There was a chill in the air of the house as Geralt dislodged himself from the sleeping vampire and blearily stumbled through the bedroom. His bladder was aching and his stomach was constricting. He opened the door, leaving the sleeping vampire behind, and stumbled into the ante room, reaching for the door outside.

He blinked when he opened the door. He looked down and noticed there were things scattered on the ground. A small ring, several bunches of flowers, a vial of something, a batch of extremely rare dried herbs, along with a few small boxes and a ream of silk fabric. Geralt felt confused as he stepped over the items and made his way to the outhouse. 

If the air inside the house was chill, the air outside was almost frigid. Not near cold enough to the point where it would frost, but Geralt’s breath came in great white puffs as he made his way to the outbuilding. He sat there for a moment allowing himself to think on the days past events, his mind idly wandering over the various political and personal machinations going on. It was the first time he had been alone with his thoughts since he and Regis had formed the pack bond and the sensation was a strange one now.

The thing he pondered the most was how weird it felt to be back. He thought for sure that once he found himself back home he would feel much more settled, more calm, but the events of the past few weeks were weighing heavily in his mind. They made him feel like sitting here at the estate idly when he could be out doing something, anything to fix what was going on, was the wrong thing to be doing. He groaned as he flexed his bare feet out in front of him, only now noticing that he didn’t smell like the ass end of a sick goat. He had been bathed. He reached up for his hair and found it plaited in a thick braid. He chuckled, warmth filling him and edging away the coolness of the pre-dawn air. 

He was head over heels for the damned vampire. Images flitted past his mind’s eye of the vampire, both old a new, and he allowed himself to revel in them in a way he had not allowed himself to before. Everything had happened so fast this time around, he wasn’t complaining, but as he flitted through his memories they were now colored with the knowledge that Regis had been in love with him for a long time. The vampire’s actions, which had seemed awkward, somehow out of place, as they had traveled, now took on new meaning as he revisited them. 

His heart constricted as his mind inadvertently took him to the battle against Vilgefortz and Regis’ last stand. He watched in new horror as Regis was turned to glass. The pain he felt then magnified by the knowledge he had now. He shuddered and felt his body tense as he pulled himself out of the memory and turned his thoughts to their new travels, and on dealing with Dettlaff. 

Geralt was going to have to have a face to face with the other vampire at some point. Despite his best efforts otherwise, he was still extremely angry at the other vampire for what he did, and what he had put Regis through.

Another thought slipped its way in, causing Geralt to balk momentarily and shiver against the cool air. He had begun to think of Beauclair and the surrounding lands as his, as his territory. He dwelled on the thought for a moment… it felt right.

He felt his fingers twitch and the familiar feeling of fullness behind his teeth returning. The idea that someone had hunted on his lands and caused problems incensed him. He unconsciously reached down to the ring, which rested on his pinky, and felt the cool metal. This ring had belonged to the other vampire as well, a gift given to help, discarded with little thought for a former knight. 

Geralt growled as the sudden need to protect his lands invaded his mind. He had only had this feeling before, when he was in Kaer Morhen. His logical mind began to catch up to him as he realized that these thoughts, these feelings, were the result of his mutations changing. He allowed himself to think on it, and think deeply. There was a thread of feeling, new, unexplored. One that he had been avoiding, one that he was going to have to face sooner or later.

Regis was _right_.

And right now, as he was alone in his thoughts, he allowed himself to feel a very private elation at the idea that he was changing, that there was something vampiric sleeping in the shadows of his being. 

The next thought that hit him, hit him square in the gut.

Regis was searching for a vampire. One that the Elder was convinced was after him, was a threat. One he couldn’t track, couldn’t control. One that appeared and disappeared with the wind. One that had appeared eighty years ago. 

Geralt did the math and felt himself tense as the realization rocketed through him. He fumbled with the ring and took it off, setting it beside himself on the wooden bench in the outhouse. Something familiar snaked its way through him, something powerful that was beginning to wake. He looked down at his hands and feet. 

“Ok…” He said to himself, focusing. “Let’s see what I can do.”

He felt the strange pull of energy that had weaved its way through him and willed the energy through himself, let it settle in his mind, let it pulse through his limbs. He willed it to the tips of his fingers and toes. He could see it in his mind’s eye, felt the pulse of power, and watched as his fingernails and toenails thickened and sharpened. Grinning to himself he lassoed the power further, and willed his claws to extend. They obeyed, and Geralt stared in wonder at the sharp claws that leveled out at the same length as Regis’ and Dettlaff’s. 

He looked at them, admiring them in the dim light of pre-dawn. His claws were long and sharp, but as they tapered towards his fingers they were scooped and hollow. Geralt ran one of his thumbs across the base. They looked like a mole’s claws, thick and suitable for digging. Useful for self-defense, harder than steel, but also useful for digging, and digging deep. Geralt extended his fingers and felt something unfamiliar lock them into place. A new set of tendons and ligaments. He experimentally pressed his locked fingers and claws on the wooden floor of the outhouse, exerting a bit of pressure. The same pressure on his normal fingers would have felt uncomfortable, would have hurt, but the lock of the thick tendons had strengthened his fingers. He brought his fingers back up and felt the tendons release, willing his nails back to just simple claws like Regis’ were normally. He felt a grin plastering itself onto his face.

“Now let’s feel the teeth.” He shuddered and willed the alien yet familiar energy snake its way to his mouth. His mouth opened involuntarily as he felt the energy increase and fangs extended both on top and bottom. The strange tingling and fullness was there again, but controlled. He ran his tongue carefully along the edges of his teeth, starting with the incisors. His front two incisors felt normal, but the second two had both gotten razor sharp, and subtle points were now on the ends. The biggest change were of course his canines, both top and bottom. The tops had elongated to razor sharp edges.

When Geralt ran his tongue carefully around the newly formed fangs he was surprised when he felt a small and subtle divot in the front each upper fang; it would likely would be difficult to see unless you were right on top of him. He moved his tongue behind his teeth, feeling two pockets of _something_ at the top of his mouth. He pressed one experimentally with his tongue and jumped when a small spray of liquid shot from his tooth and onto the ground by his feet.

“Unexpected.” He said, furrowing his brows. The one side felt less itchy than the other but was quickly refilling. He closed his mouth and swallowed. The taste of his spit was vaguely bitter, but didn’t seem to cause any issues otherwise. He opened his mouth again and stuck his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pulling like he was sucking on a piece of shellfish. Liquid dribbled slowly from both teeth, much less exciting then the squirt, but still telling. 

“So that’s what pumps the poison in.” Geralt said, swallowing the bitter liquid that had pooled in his mouth. He resumed his exploration; he had two more fangs on top that had grown from the pointed side of his premolars next to his canines, but only on the top. The rest of his teeth felt normal. Grinning to himself he willed his teeth back to normal, then felt at the top of his mouth; the pockets were still there. He let his tongue run across his teeth once more, they were normal. To his surprise he still felt the divots on his canines. He sucked the roof of his mouth again and more poison dribbled.

“Huh!” Geralt spit the bitter liquid to the ground. He picked up the ring Regis had given him and slipped it back on his finger, feeling the power receding back into slumber once more, though it didn’t feel as asleep as it once had. He grinned and pulled himself off the latrine, shivering again. It was still damned cold out.

He crossed his arms across his scarred chest and looked out across the land. He knew now something Regis didn’t, or if the vampire did he had kept it to himself somehow. Geralt was the one the Elder was seeking, _he_ was the unknown vampire.

The timing of the attacks, when they started, and the Elder’s sudden want to get a hold of the vampire just after Geralt had begun to suffer from nightmares that had obviously been triggering his mutations, was just too much of a coincidence. And Geralt didn’t believe in coincidences. He looked down at his hands; the short version of the claws were still there. He couldn’t help the small rush of power as he flexed his fingers and admired them in the slowly dawning light.

The sound of soft footsteps and the smell of fresh baked bread pulled Geralt out of the outhouse. As he rounded the corner he saw Marlene, wrapped in a blanket, with a large basket in her hand that smelled heavenly. She startled when she saw Geralt looking at her.

“Good gods, you are likely to make this old woman leave this earth before her time!” Marlene said, then eyed him critically. “You are out here in the cold in nothing but your knickers.”

Geralt looked down and laughed.

“So I am.” He said, a small smile playing at his lips. 

The woman huffed and took off the blanket that had been draped across her shoulders. She toddled over to him and wrapped the soft wool blanket around him. Geralt grinned.

“I came to leave you this… breakfast.” Marlene said, handing the basket to Geralt. “Master Regis said that you two were to be left alone till you called for us, but you know me. You have been out for a day, now that you are home I just had to make sure you two were fed.”

Geralt chuckled and took the basket.

“Thanks Marlene, you are amazing.” He said, motioning for her to sit on the bench outside the house. He tentatively felt for Regis; he was still sound asleep.

“Where is master Regis?” She asked as Geralt sat.

“Still asleep, it’s been an arduous journey for us both.” Geralt said, pulling the blanket around his shoulders and sniffing deeply. He loved the woman’s scent, it permeated his residence, her scent was home to him. She grinned at the reaction and sat down, resting her hand on Geralt’s arm.

“Been so worried for you both.” She said, looking out to the distance. “With the plague, and all the strangeness happening around the duchy, then you two rushing off after you got that horrible wound on your neck. It’s almost too much for one to bear.”

Geralt felt his heart warm as he regarded the pensive expression on the old woman’s face. She turned to look at him, catching his warm expression, and laughed.

“If anyone had told me when I was young that in my golden years I would be mothering a witcher, I would have laughed them straight out of the duchy.” Marlene smiled and patted Geralt’s arm. 

“I am old enough that you could be my daughter.” Geralt laughed and Marlene’s eyes crinkled with mirth.

“Ah Geralt, what am I to do with you?” She sighed, smiling sadly. 

“As long as you keep feeding me I’ll keep coming back.” Geralt grinned, leaning up against the wall.

They sat there in silence for a while as the sky began to slowly brighten. Her presence was familiar, calming, and wonderful in a way Geralt had no words for. Finally Marlene sighed and looked into the witcher’s dilated eyes. 

“Regis never came back out when he put you to bed after bathing you.” She said softly, causing Geralt’s breath to hitch. “He fusses over you constantly when you are around him.” 

Geralt felt himself smile as he looked out to the distance. Regis did fuss over him any time he was near. It had been the pattern, ever since he had met the vampire. 

“Yeah, he does, annoying sometimes.” Geralt said, grinning cheekily and feeling his ears heat up. “But, it’s something I have learned to love.”

“So, you figured it out?” Marlene implored, causing Geralt to look down to the clear eyes of the older woman.

“Yeah, took a few hard hits, but we figured it out.” Geralt smiled. “You were right.”

“Do you love him? Truly? Despite what he is?” Marlene asked softly her eyes brimming with emotion. 

“We are bound now.” Geralt said, stroking the woman’s arm, “Something that is hard to explain, but so absolutely wonderful that I can’t even begin to scratch the surface of it.”

Marlene looked down to his fingers and ran her own down his nails.

“Perhaps, it is for the best this way.” She smiled sadly. “I can see you are changing. Your skin is fuller than when I first met you, your years are washing away, slowly. And now these.”

“I am still the same, Marlene.” Geralt said, pressing his hand to his heart. “Who I am, what I do, will never change.”

“You cannot say that master Geralt, not to me, not to one who has been through what I have.” She scoffed smiling. “People change, all people. I know at your core you have a heart made of gilded gold surrounded by steel, and a core made of diamond. With everything you have faced throughout your life, it’s amazing to me that you are not embittered. You still hold a childlike wonder.”

It was Geralt’s turn to scoff as he took the old woman’s hand in his, massaging the soft and aged skin. 

“I have my moments of bitterness.” Geralt grinned.

“Being snarky and pouty don’t count.” Marlene laughed. “You still hold out hope for something better. It’s more than most people, and I hope to the gods that never changes. I am old Geralt. Truly old, especially for a human, though I have never felt more youthful in my life. I know that someday my story will come to a close, while yours will continue onwards. I only hope that I have made up for the sins of my past in taking care of you.”

“The sins of your past are being tricked by a demon.” Geralt snorted, harshness making its way into his voice. “Your only sin was pushed a thousand fold more so than it should have ever been.”

“It taught me humility, something that in my youth I horribly lacked.” Marlene said, her expression becoming serious. “That is another part of age; when you get old enough you finally start to feel comfortable embracing your own flaws.”

“As far as I am concerned you are perfect the exact way you are.” Geralt felt his eyes drawn towards the vineyard as the light slowly began to increase. 

Marlene leaned up against him, her hands still on his arm. She sighed and watched as the sun slowly began to rise and the people of the vineyard began to start their journey to wakefulness. Geralt saw her dreamy expression, and a small smile played across her lips. Her heart was slow and steady, and powerful. Geralt sniffed the air, smelling the woman once again and letting his mind flit through her emotional state through scent. The tang of old worry, and then relief flooded his nose. She was content at the moment. 

When the first rays peaked over the Blue Mountains to the west, and painted the Amell’s in the east, Geralt was as always breathless at the sight. The rich warm colors began to warm the air, taking the chill out of it. Marlene sighed contentedly and Geralt patted at her hand looking down to her. 

“I am sure you saw the gifts at your doorstep.” Marlene said, breaking the spell of silence and causing Geralt’s brow to furrow.

“Are they gifts?” Geralt asked, craning his neck to look at the items that rested beside the door.

“Yes, most are addressed to Regis, some to you.” Marlene hesitated for a moment before looking back up to Geralt. “I have read some of the letters, my nosiness sometimes gets the best me. Some of them are filled to the brim with words I do not understand. Others are written in Elder speech, still others written in common. All of them have the same post script. You need to read them I am afraid. I have been placing them in the guest bedroom alongside all the gifts”

The woman looked down and tensed.

“Thank you, Marlene.” Geralt said warmly, taking the blanket off his shoulders and draping it over the woman’s in one smooth motion. “Go get some rest, Regis and I will be fine. Things will get back to normal here soon.”

Geralt stood up and offered his hand to the woman, which she took with a coy smile. 

“Geralt, with you nothing is normal.” She said cheekily as he lifted her. “All I crave is the familiar chaos you bring.”

Geralt grinned and a sudden impulse took him over. Without warning he reached out and embraced the woman. He felt her stiffen for a moment before she wilted into him. She was so small, still gaunt, but now a natural sort of gaunt instead of a starving gaunt. She felt like sugared glass, beautiful but easily broken. Geralt projected wave after wave of protectiveness. She was his charge, and come hell or high water he wouldn’t let harm come to her or any of those at his vineyard. She pulled away first pushing away from his bare chest with strength.

“Now that’s enough of that.” She laughed, her tone light and airy. “Go, take your basket. It has bread, some cured meats, some cheeses, and several bunches of beautiful ripe grapes. There is also fresh muscadine jam in the larder, as well as some hen’s eggs should you feel the need to cook. There is wine and water a plenty in there, and I left some mulling spices as well as some apple cider in the kitchens.”

Geralt laughed and picked up the basket.

“Thank you Marlene, for everything.” Geralt said as the old women turned away and began heading back down the path to the servants’ quarters. Geralt watched her as she left. When she turned one last time to look backwards Geralt waved, and she laughed.

Geralt turned and dodged over the gifts, smiling and stepping back into the cool darkness of the house. He reached out, sensing Regis was still fast asleep. He set the basket down on the table, then with quiet feet he walked across the room and opened the door to his bedroom.

He smiled down at Regis as the vampire slept, his hair falling in front of his face, his limbs askew. Geralt stripped himself of his braies and walked around to his side of the bed before slipping in. He grabbed the vampire from behind and brought him to his chest, burying his nose in his hair. The vampire snuggled against him bringing his whole body flush with Geralt’s. Grinning to himself as his eyelids began to get heavy, he lazily started stroking his claws through Regis’ hair.

Drifting off to sleep, he finally felt at ease. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hee hee! Chapter finsihed 11-14-18


	31. Musth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AND THEN THEY FUCKED REAL GOOD
> 
> ********
> 
> Regis looked over to the witcher, who stared at him through his hair and didn’t move an inch. The vampire sighed in exasperation and scooted over to the lazy witcher, and held the book in front of his face pointing at the entry.
> 
> Geralt frowned. He didn’t recognize anything on the page at all. The language was foreign and looked odd.
> 
> “Regis, I can’t read vampire.” Geralt huffed, getting his arms under him. Regis turned the book to himself and scoffed.
> 
> “Its translation is roughly ‘The embrace of lust.’” Regis was smiling triumphantly. Geralt pushed upwards and got his knees under him. “This passage mentions this generally happens under circumstances of safety and a newly mated relationship between two males. And here it is stated that a lot of the actions are uncontrollable and generally resolve themselves in a few days.”
> 
> “Any advice on how to get rid of it?” Geralt groaned as he looked down and saw himself, again hard and leaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always this chapter has been Beta'ed by  
>  **  
> **  
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**
> 
> Sex, lots of sex  
> Biting  
> blood  
> mentions of rape

Geralt was dreaming he knew it. Sensation was rocketing through him as shadowy shapes, vaguely taking on the form of friends he had known over the years, pawed at his body, sucked at his nipples, bit at his neck and ears. He couldn’t move, he was being held down. He felt his dick enveloped by hot wetness, and his ass filled to bursting by something that was punishing him deliciously. He groaned, attempting to thrust into the heat, but the more he tried, the more he was held on edge.

Frustration roiled through him as he attempted to make a noise. Only silence greeted him as he tried in vain to push himself over. He was panting, practically tearing. He felt his hands attempting to work. but they wouldn’t obey him. Growling, he felt consciousness begin to crack over him, but he wanted this, wanted this dream.

The dream suddenly took a turn when sensation flitted in from the outside. A hot wet tongue traced his body from his ears to his nipples and a sharp, delicious sensation around his nipple caused him to no longer feel paralyzed. He called out, bucking into the sensation. The tongue was going down, lower still. When the warm, no, _hot_ hand wrapped around his cock and pulled, Geralt bucked up; his hands fisting the sheets.

“Gods damnit, _yess_ ….” Geralt felt a wave of precum flow from him. He hissed as the hand held him firm and a wet tongue lapped at the liquid. The low moan, coming from the vampire he shared his bed with, woke him up.

Geralt instantly came too, his eyes snapping open. His body was absolutely on fire. He looked down, trying to stop his hips from moving as Regis buried his nose in the white fuzz that covered his groin. Musk was thick in the air, musk from Regis, and Geralt’s own. A new unfamiliar smell entered the fray. It was absolutely intoxicating. It filtered through Geralt’s nose, and caused him to buck upwards. When he chanced a look down he felt a push of precum flowing from the tip of his aching cock.

“Gods Geralt, what are you _doing_ to me?” Regis let out a pained growl, the noise becoming constant in his throat. Geralt choked out a yell, his body going ridged as Regis’ mouth enveloped his cock. The vampire’s cheeks hollowed and Geralt called out against the sensation. The vampire was not unaffected. He was grabbing at himself, pulling, precum leaking from his own cock and around his long fingers. It was too much. Geralt cried out at the sight and felt himself cumming and he thrust deep into the vampire’s mouth, Regis’ sharp teeth scraping the base of his shaft in the process. Regis made a choked noise and pulled off, coughing, Geralt’s cum spilling from his mouth.

“Not enough…” Geralt growled and felt his vision haze as he panted. His head felt strange, and as he looked at the vampire he knew Regis was in much the same state. Geralt’s cock still throbbed, the orgasm having washed away, but his state still needy.

“Geralt… I… ahhh.” Regis’ skin flushed as he pulled himself upright and leaned on one hand, tugging on himself.

“That smell…” Geralt breathed pulling himself up onto his knees. “Gods Regis, that _smell_!”

Regis stopped pulling and let his hands catch the precum now liberally flowing from him. Geralt had never seen anything like it. His cock was doing the same. Geralt felt the slightly cool liquid draining from him, traveling down the base of his cock, dripping off his balls, and to the bed. A puddle was forming. Geralt watched with wide eyes as the vampire took it, and looked at it between his fingers and covering his hands, his eyes half lidded. Regis brought it up to his nose and sniffed hard, his teeth exposed his nose wrinkling.

“What are you doing?” Geralt growled as Regis licked at the fluid and the vampire shuddered.

“Ah… I don’t… know?” Regis scooped up more of the fluid and frantically, and almost comically, rubbed it on his chest, and trailed downward. Geralt felt his mouth watering as the sensations Regis was feeling washed over him, alien and extraordinary. He knew instinct was pulling at Regis in a way Geralt had yet to experience. Geralt moved to grab Regis, but the vampire tipped over on his back, stalling his movement.  Geralt’s heart rate increased as Regis moaned, his legs splayed; his hands rubbing at his crotch in such an obscene gesture, Geralt groaned just from the visual. Geralt found himself looking at the ring, his brows furrowing. He was missing out on something vital, something that was aching to come out at the display as Regis keened with pain written across his features.

He took the ring off and hastily dropped it on the nightstand. Something deep thrummed through him the second the ring lost contact. Deep and visceral. He looked at Regis, his eyes feasting upon the sight in front of him, and crawled to the vampire. He drank in the sight, his eyes not leaving the vampire’s face as Regis mewled and groaned.

“Geralt… I… I know...” Regis’ eyes snapped open as Geralt displayed his teeth. “Geralt… the… the ring?!”

Geralt was on him in a flash, his mouth meeting the vampire’s hard enough to bruise. Regis clung to him, his limbs snapping shut around him like a trap. The storm took Geralt then, as Regis’ normal scent and the new intoxicating scent filtered through. The new one pulsed and pulled at Geralt’s mind as instinct gave him knowledge. Regis was _ready_. He was out of his mind with need and ready for Geralt to take him, fully and completely. The scent was a calling card, a response to Geralt’s own. Their bodies were calling to one another. Geralt pulled away and nuzzled Regis’ cheek, where part of the delicious smell was coming from. He growled and rubbed at the vampire, his own scent becoming thick and adding another complicated and complimentary layer to the miasma surrounding them.

Geralt however knew, as much as Regis’ body was calling to him, he needed his mind to be in the same place as well. He nibbled below the vampire’s ear, and let his breath tease his lover’s skin. 

“I… have just enough control, Regis… That if you ask me to stop… Right now… I will.” Geralt breathed, holding himself back from tasting the vampire. “My control is slowly… slipping. You want me. You want me to fill you, want me to fuck you blind… I can smell it, I can feel it in my head.”

Geralt ground up against Regis, bringing their hips flush as he tore his hand through the dark hair. He felt Regis’ hesitation and the vampire’s rape flitted through his mind. Regis cursed and pulled Geralt’s head so he could look at him. Trepidation filled his eyes even as his body betrayed him.

“Geralt, I want this so badly.”  Regis hissed, the admission almost coming out as a sob. Geralt nodded and leaned his head forward, resting it on the vampire’s own. He sent a calming, caring wave of love and lust through the bond.

“We will create a new memory, you will drive me.” Geralt husked, understanding what Regis was feeling instantly through the bond. “You will face me, you will see me. I won’t leave it to the imagination. If you tell me to stop, I will. No questions, no matter how painful.”

Regis arched his back and exposed his neck. _Submission_. Geralt lurched forward grabbing the junction between the vampire’s neck and his shoulder between his own fangs. Applying pressure but not piercing through. Regis howled, the bond igniting with a wave of lust so powerful Geralt’s vision faded.

Geralt pulled away and kicked Regis’ legs wider and shifted himself. Regis was arching off the bed already, his hands pulling at the tip of his cock and pinching at his nipple. Geralt’s mouth quirked into a lustful grin as he took in the display. Regis was gifted in many regards, his cock being no exception. Geralt admired it, brushing Regis’ hand away softly and letting his hand pull languidly along the length. Regis’ whole body shuddered and his hips canted up. Geralt used his free hand to gather some of the slick precum from Regis onto his hands. He smoothed it over his length adding his own to the mix and huffed.

“Talk to me, Regis.” Geralt groaned, arching himself up so the vampire could see him stroking his own length. “Tell me what you want.”

“Geralt, for once in my life I am… unable to articulate.” Regis barked, his eyes hungrily following the witcher’s hand.

Geralt grinned as Regis swallowed.

“I doubt that.” Geralt purred, shifting himself and taking his hand away from Regis’ cock. At the loss of contact the vampire whined in frustration and Geralt canted the vampire’s leg, opening him up. He shifted his slicked cock to Regis’ asshole and ran his head around the entrance, slicking it. Geralt steadied himself and pushed forward in several shallow strokes, watching hungrily as Regis tried to shift himself to force more in.

“Geralt…” The word rumbled out in warning. Geralt grinned and slowly pushed forward sending Regis into a full body spasm. Geralt huffed, his breath coming in harsh pants as the shaking subsided and Regis began to adjust. He had to fight against every fiber of his being to start withdrawing slowly. Regis’ muscles were tense, and tight, as his mind cascaded between enjoying the sensation, and trying to fight down memories. The vampire closed his eyes, trying to hide a wince.

Geralt leaned over and gently took the vampire’s face in his hands. Regis leaned into the contact, the wince easing slightly at the soft touch.

“Open your eyes.” Geralt coaxed, panting with the effort of stilling himself. “Look at me.”

Regis did so, his eyes half lidded, his pupils dilated and catching the light. Geralt shuddered as he withdrew agonizingly slow. He felt another release of precum as his head crested along the edge of the strong muscle, and then began moving forward slowly again shifting Regis’ hips as he did so. The long drawn out groan from the vampire let him know he hit his mark.

“That’s it, that’s it, I got ya.” Geralt soothed, his voice soft despite the monster raging behind his movements.

“Geralt, gods.” Regis licked at his lips, his fingers flexing.

“Gotta tell me what you want.” Geralt felt his grin turning feral. He felt the barriers fall, as Regis growled out his answer.

“Break me… Rip me open… Rend me… drink me.”

Geralt thrust forward harshly and Regis pushed his hips back towards the witcher, the action causing Geralt to squirm. Geralt grinned and grabbed Regis’ legs. Using his weight, he pinned them, and then attacked Regis’ mouth as he began to thrust. Regis scrambled under him, his claws grabbing at his hair, and ripping the band loose that held the braid to his head. Geralt growled and moved his hand to support Regis’ neck. Foreheads together, Geralt thrust, drinking in the guttural noises that floated through Regis’ mouth. Geralt wound his other arm behind Regis’ shoulder and used it to maneuver the vampire, and hold him as the strength of the thrusts increased.

Geralt could feel Regis fighting both through the bond, as well as through his jerky movements, trying to speed his way to orgasm. Geralt slowed his pace rolling his hips in long circles.

  
“Don’t force it.” Geralt breathed, kissing Regis again. “Feel it… slowly… building, like a fire.”

Regis choked against Geralt as he let his body relax, and his movements free. Geralt smiled as the vampire’s hips began undulating with Geralt’s strong rolls.

“This feels better than I could have ever imagined.” Regis gasped. It turned into a ragged yell when Geralt began sucking and biting at the vampire’s ear. The vampire’s leg kicked out in reflex, hitting the nightstand and tipping it over onto the floor as Geralt rolled his hips powerfully, the feeling of deep penetration causing the vampire to scramble for purchase. His hands found Geralt’s back and buttocks. He clawed at both, and Geralt found himself groaning against the pain. The vampire was now guiding the rhythm of Geralt’s hips with his hands, as Geralt held onto him like he was going to dart away at a moment’s notice. The witcher’s gasping became erratic and his movements more frenzied as Regis’ head lolled and his claws began to tense hard enough to draw blood.

“Geralt… I….ughhhh.” Regis felt Geralt thrust deep; the witcher now calling out with every thrust.

“Geralt!” Regis’ muscles tensed and Geralt pressed the vampire’s head to his neck.

“Take what’s yours.” Geralt hissed, his grip around Regis becoming almost painful.

Regis felt himself tipping over the edge, and bit down; the spicy, exotic taste of Geralt’s blood cascading into his mouth. The sudden rush of euphoria, Geralt’s pained cry into his ear, the pressure of Geralt’s body on his as the witcher sought to become one with him, pushed them both over the edge. Cum flowed between them, adding to the liquid river that had formed from the precum. Geralt pulled Regis off of his neck and kissed him fiercely, tasting his own blood, and sat the vampire upright on his lap.

Geralt pulled away and panted, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he gripped onto the vampire, who was biting him and licking him in turn. Geralt let out a frustrated groan as he rocked his hips again, causing Regis to gasp and roll his own hips.

“Not enough.” Geralt’s breath was ragged, his cock still painfully hard, and now over sensitized; still buried balls deep into the vampire. Regis grinned and bucked his hips forward, causing Geralt to lose his grip. Regis laughed and pushed him over, forcing him to his back.

“So this is the famed witcher stamina.” Regis grinned from above, as Geralt lost himself to the sensation of the vampire riding his hips. “Lets see how long it takes to truly break you.”

Geralt called out, his voice echoing through the house.

************

 

Geralt pulled himself back to consciousness and was flooded with the smell of sex, blood, oil, and cum. He didn’t know how many times he and Regis tore into each other, nor what time it was. Judging from the voices he heard outside it was mid afternoon or early evening. The room was a wreck, the sheets shredded and bloody. Geralt groaned when he realized the pillow he’d been laying on had been torn, and fine goose down feathers were stuck all over his arms, and likely the rest of him.

His stomach complained loudly, and he made to move, but the muscle exhaustion caused him to shake. He gave up, falling back into the bed with a huff and a puff of feathers.

“Ah, you are awake, welcome back.” Regis voice was soft, calm, hiding his agitated state as his mind fluttered. He was looking through several books, seeking answers to the question both the witcher and the vampire had asked themselves nearly as soon as they had started becoming involved with one another. What the hell had _happened_?

Geralt felt his cock stir under him and he cursed. He dragged himself over to the end table that had the ring on it and placed it back on his finger, grunting with the effort. Geralt turned his head to face the vampire peering at him through his loose and disheveled hair. He couldn’t help the grin that plastered itself on his face as he regarded the vampire. Regis was naked, his hair a disheveled mess of loose black and gray curls that stubbornly kept falling into his eyes as he read intently. His body held a faint sheen of sweat, and he could see the vampire’s cock, peaking out from behind his legs, erect and ready as he bounced his gaze from the book to the scroll, which was also laid out on the bed. Regis’ brow furrowed.

“I am reluctant to say, Geralt, that I am coming up empty handed.” Regis was not used to admitting defeat and was looking at the scroll with consternation. “The only thing mentioned here are the estrus cycles of females, and some of the mating habits surrounding that. It makes a vague mention that under the right conditions males can be driven to frenzy by the hormones released by females, but it makes no mention of anything other than that.”

Geralt sighed.

“Maybe you are looking in the wrong part.” Geralt said, blowing his hair out of his face. “You said yourself that vampires were highly social creatures before they came here. Your attitudes have been tempered in the name of fitting in with humans, and not being discovered. Maybe there is mention of a type of rut that was commonplace? Something that would have seemed normal to the vampires from your world but seems alien here?”

Regis flipped through the book in his lap at a record pace. His mind became excited before his countenance did as he read. Then he moved to the scroll and looked at it.

“Îmbrățișarea poftei.” Regis said pointing. “Look… here!”

Regis looked over to the witcher, who stared at him through his hair and didn’t move an inch. The vampire sighed in exasperation and scooted over to the lazy witcher, and held the book in front of his face pointing at the entry.

Geralt frowned. He didn’t recognize anything on the page at all. The language was foreign and looked odd.

“Regis, I can’t read vampire.” Geralt huffed, getting his arms under him. Regis turned the book to himself and scoffed.

“Its translation is roughly ‘The embrace of lust.’” Regis was smiling triumphantly. Geralt pushed upwards and got his knees under him. “This passage mentions this generally happens under circumstances of safety and a newly mated relationship between two males. And here it is stated that a lot of the actions are uncontrollable and generally resolve themselves in a few days.”

“Any advice on how to get rid of it?” Geralt groaned as he looked down and saw himself, again hard and leaking.

“Says here we have to just let it run its course.” Regis sighed, looking down to his own dick like it had betrayed him. “It also says that the instinct will be to not take care of ones self, but just to fuck as much as you can. So we are going to have to take a pointed, and purposeful break so that we may break our fast, and continue with our activities.”

Geralt stood up and looked at himself in the mirror, groaning with the effort of the movement. When he looked behind himself in the mirror he startled. Regis was back with his nose in the book, but Geralt could see him clearly through the silvered glass.

“Regis…” Geralt’s voice was hoarse with shock and wonder as he stepped back from the mirror and moved to sit beside the vampire.

“Hmmm, also says here that mated females will go through much the same thing.” Regis said, his brows furrowing. He was trying to pointedly ignore Geralt, as Geralt tried to get him to look up. “Guessing it’s not under ‘mating habits‘ because neither relationship produces offspring? This book is ancient, and whoever the author was failed miserably at organizing the book in any way that makes any sort of sense.”

“Regis!” Geralt hissed.

“What Geralt?” The vampire finally looked up.

“Look in the mirror.” Geralt made a jerky motion with his hands.

“Oh harhar, seen this trick befo….” Regis blinked. The vampire stood up. He walked over to the mirror, touching it.

“Geralt… It’s me?”  Regis blinked and ran his fingers on the mirror leaving a smudge on he polished silver and glass.

“Transform, Regis.” Geralt growled, approaching the vampire. Regis did as was told and looked again. His reflection stared back at him. His ears were lengthened, his visage fierce and toothy. His claws elongated. Spots ran from his temples down his neck, swirling on his chest and all the way to his groin. His groin had changed as well. His cock had lengthened subtlety, and gained thickness. The reflection didn’t waver.

“Gods, Geralt.” Regis said, looking in the mirror and examining his body fully for the first time.

“Why are you showing up?” Geralt asked, approaching the vampire and grabbing him from behind. “Not that I am complaining.”

Regis hissed, his vampiric form stretching and flexing as Geralt found his hands wandering across the vampire’s narrow hips.

“I don’t know Geralt.” Regis groaned as Geralt’s hand found its way down into the soft hair below his navel. Geralt took a moment and slid the ring back off, tossing it on the ruined bed. He called forward his own transformation. He hissed as his fangs lengthened and his eyes turned from their piercing amber gold to a glowing red. His face changed too, subtlety. His cheeks more pronounced, his lips full and flushed. His brow slightly deeper. Geralt rumbled at the changes as Regis arched up into his touch.

“You are beautiful like this too, you know.” Geralt whispered in his ear, as he grabbed a hold of the vampire’s stiff and straining cock. Regis called out, arching back into Geralt. “Beautiful, dangerous, deadly. A single swift move and I could be dead. Your teeth…”

“A sign of the northern tribes of my home world.” Regis groaned as Geralt bit along his shoulder. “You have the signs of a western tribe, the double canines are a giveaway, Dettlaff has the same. The regional differences depended highly on environment. Where my group evolved the prey was fast moving and traveled in large numbers that would defend themselves, so we would have to get in, and exsanguinate quickly. Dettlaff’s tribe, his was of a rare kind. They would move in packs calling on the lesser of our kin to help. That is Dettlaff’s gift you realize, he has extraordinary control over our lesser kin.”

Geralt growled and bit down harder, allowing his fangs to pierce the skin of Regis’ shoulder. He didn’t pull in any blood though, he was in the muscle not near a vein. Regis gasped.

“Tell me more.” Geralt growled, withdrawing and licking at the small wounds. Regis’ eyes rolled; his monstrous visage sneering in the mirror. The spots along his body began to darken. Geralt liked the look of that.

“Ah…. Well…” Regis licked at his lips and reached up grabbing Geralt’s head, moving it to his neck, his eyes focused on the mirror as Geralt’s worked him over. “Anyway, the western tribes were rarer. The prey they had to hunt were large, strong. The end result was just a small area where you could bite and draw blood.”

“You make it sound like you were there.” Geralt breathed against Regis’ neck.

“I have an active imagination and I will read anything I get my hands on.” Regis breathed, flexing his hips. “Vampire lore is hard to come by. Apparently when we first crossed over all we had was what came with us through the congress, and what people had on their person. Even further past that, the way we raise children, letting them figure things out for themselves for the most part with very little guidance does not help matters. There have been tomes written since our cross-over to keep as much history intact as possible, but the lore is colored by tribal issues.”

Geralt rumbled and licked at the vampire’s neck, moving up to his ear. When he nibbled and bit on the long soft edge Regis keened, his hips thrusting and cum slinging out. Geralt rumbled in satisfaction, guiding Regis back to the bed as he lost his transformation and his human form returned.

He bent down and picked up the ring placing it back on his finger. His golden eyes returned and his fangs withdrew. He smiled as the vampire shook his head.

“Geralt, we need to eat.” Regis panted. “I am famished. I can tell you are too, the bond is more or less hammering me with your need to eat, and drink.”

Geralt grabbed a towel and cleaned himself up the best as he could, and tossed it to Regis who did the same.

“Is it just me or is the bond… settling?” Geralt asked, pulling on a pair of shorts, and then pulling on a pair of loose fabric pants. He dug through his drawers and found a pair of braies for Regis, and another loose pair of pants and a shirt for the vampire.

“You are right.” Regis smiled as he dressed. “We completed the last part of it during our first romp of the day. Now we are on even terms. The bond was still half formed, unpredictable. All thoughts or no thoughts and feelings were coming through. Now you should be able to filter. It’s considered rude to bombard your significant other with all your thoughts constantly. Though feelings will still be broadcast, you can mute them.”

“Don’t necessarily want to mute my thoughts.” Geralt frowned. “It’s hard enough as is to talk about my emotions, just letting you feel them is a whole lot easier.”

“Yes, but at the same time it will be pleasant to be able to mute my constant running inner monologue.” Regis said, pulling on the pants. “At the very least it will let you have a moment or two to yourself, something I know you crave from time to time.”

Geralt smiled.

“True, but feel the need to be alone a whole lot less as of recent.”

Regis came up and grabbed Geralt’s head, resting their foreheads together. He sighed and kissed Regis long and slow.

“Come now let’s not start that again, we need food.” Regis grinned.

Geralt stepped out of the door and looked at the basket Marlene had given him earlier in the day. His mouth watered as he pulled out the various items and set them across the table. Regis quickly stole out of the house to go to the outhouse while Geralt set up, causing Geralt to grin. He heard the whispering of two of his servant’s daughters as Regis passed them, shirtless. Their twittering causing Geralt to grin.

When Regis came back Geralt was in the larder, supplementing what he had set out with jam and a few other things.

“I am glad you are building an indoor bathing room, Geralt.” Regis rubbed at his shoulder, something Geralt was beginning to realize he did when his bag wasn’t strapped across his chest. His nervous tell. “That gauntlet of eyes is intense at the best of times. During the daylight it’s so much worse.”

Geralt grinned.

They ate in silence for the most part, both of them so hungry they had little time for anything else. Geralt groaned in satisfaction once he was full up, and noticed Regis shifting in his seat. The smell was beginning to get thick again.

“Before we start again,” Geralt said, pointedly looking at Regis and stroking himself through the thin fabric of his pants. “Marlene said there are gifts upstairs.”

“You horrible, tempting man.” Regis growled as he pulled himself up, and attempted to adjust. Geralt laughed and stood up, walking around the flustered vampire.

Geralt took the stairs two at a time and was stunned. His eyes went wide. The whole of the guest room was filled with various items and letters. Crystals, fabric, wines, spirits, statues, marbles, jewels and tinctures and herbs. Geralt went and picked up one of the more ornate crystals and blinked as the facets reflected the light. Regis went over to the pile of letters and picked one up, examining the seal.

“Heartman family… huh?” Regis popped the seal and opened the letter. His eyes got wide as he read.

“What is it?” Geralt asked as Regis put his hand to his mouth, wordlessly handing over the letter.

_“Dear Emiel,_

_My husband and I worked for the Humanist for centuries. We had heard about you and your plight back when you first started down your path to recovery. We helped fund your schooling in the hopes that **he** would be able to train you to love the ones we live with. We were not disappointed. We saw you fight the Elder, fight and win. We would like to support you, but must do so from the shadows._

_We are calling you Luptătorul, The fighter. For that’s what you are. You fought the Elder once and won, we will support you in any way we can. Send a crow if you need support, we will be there._

_Thank you for standing up to him, we have been languishing for years._

_Sincerely,_

_Lisolette, and Uwe Heartman”_

Geralt felt his brows furrowing as he flipped it and read it over, twice. Regis was frantically looking through the letters, panic rising through the bond.

“They… they think I am _rebelling_!” Regis exclaimed, his hands shaking. He collapsed down to his knees. “Good gods, Geralt.”

Geralt got down on the floor with the vampire.

“Is it a bad thing?” Geralt asked, leaning his head on the vampire’s shoulder. “I mean technically you are.”

Regis’ agitation came to a screeching halt.

“I… I am.” Regis’ eyes were wide.

Determination washed over his features.

“I _am_.” He whispered, his lips drew tight across his teeth as the shaking began to subside. “I _am_ rebelling, I have been for a long time. But this? I am going to become a _martyr_ if it gets out!”

Geralt purred and nibbled along Regis’ shoulder, coming to the vampire’s neck.

“Let’s leave the world behind for a couple more days, Regis.” Geralt murmured into the vampire’s neck. “This may be the last time we get to enjoy each other, enjoy downtime. Let’s make the most of it.”

Geralt found himself pushed against the guest bed with a speed that made him dizzy.

“Yes, Geralt, let’s…” Regis purred reaching over and examining some of the oils that were left.

When Geralt eventually felt Regis enter him, he arched his back and knew, at least for this moment, that all was right in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of fucking, lots of bonding, needed a good “And they rutted real good” Chapter before the plot started getting heavy again! Vampire Musth is fun to write yup yup!
> 
> As another note, the next chapter... well.. yeah. It's rather self indulgent. So if you don't like Yennefer... whelp... yeah
> 
> till next week!


	32. Chasten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Regis Run into Yennefer, who has much to tell them, and they have much to show her.
> 
> ************** 
> 
> “Now comes the part that requires absolute trust.” Geralt felt power washing over him as he approached Yennefer. “I am showing you this for two reasons. The first being so if you see me do this you aren’t caught off guard, the second being you need to experience it so you can understand it, and maybe find a counter for it. Are you ok with this?”
> 
> Yennefer looked to Geralt as Regis stood behind him. Unbeknownst to her the second he took the ring off he noticed her appetizing scent permeating the room and it was so intense that her scent was all he could think about. Regis picked up on Geralt’s mood shift and smirked as he approached the desk, his practiced human movements falling away into the vampiric smoothness Geralt had gotten to know very thoroughly as of late. They were hunting. This was a hunt, and the prey was Yennefer. The thought should have startled him, but it elated him instead.
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **OK GUYS**  
>   
> 
> **THIS WAS A SELF INDULGENT CHAPTER!!!!**
> 
>  
> 
> I updated the tags in the fic with the coupling
> 
> That being said there is some sex in this Chapter between Regis, Geralt and Yennefer, and I will place a warning before it gets going so that way, if you don't want to read it, you don't have to. It will be obvious
> 
> PLEASE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ IT... when you see the warning, you can skip down to the bottom where I will give a solid overview of all the facts that are passed between them. 
> 
> placing the warnings first!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> ************************** WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER **************************  
> 
> 
> Regis says the "C" word (Some folks are oddly sensitive about that?)  
> Hunting behavior  
> One time seduction of Yennefer  
> Male male Female Sex  
> Double penetration  
> Female Ejaculation  
> Vampire feeding  
> Revenge sex  
> Minor dubious consent in regards to anal (She liked it in the end)  
>  ****
> 
> BETA IS Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff

Geralt had the foresight to take a dose of swallow before their last batch of frenzied fucking. For that’s what it was. There were long drawn out moments of making love, sure, but the house had been wrecked by their rutting. Every surface had been scratched, marred, marked, or tipped over. Geralt felt some amount of sheepishness for their behavior, but at the moment, sitting in the tub with Regis lounged across for him like a sleeping cat, he didn’t care one bit. It had been three wonderful days of losing themselves to one another in every possible way. They would wake, eat, and fuck till they passed out again. Finally at the end of the third day both had calmed down, and the heat that had raced through Geralt had cooled, and he felt his head was back on straight.

It was early morning. Geralt had made BB bring up the tub and informed him not to say one word about what he saw in the house, but the rather distressed purse of his lips was evidence enough that they had made an absolute mess of things. Geralt promised him and several servants an extra month’s pay to clean up what was left of the mess and to keep quiet. BB was horrified till Geralt explained that the blood on the walls was both his and Regis’. It was one of the few times he had seen the man blush.

Now though, now Geralt was pulling himself back to reality. Today he would have to go back to the palace and he and Regis needed to think of a plan to keep themselves out of harm’s way. Geralt had been mulling it over since he woke up and he chewed at his lip as he looked at Regis’ chest rising and falling slowly.

“You are making it awfully difficult to enjoy this small respite before we have to plunge ourselves back into the fray.” Regis groaned, not lifting his head up. Orange oil and herbs floated around them as they breathed in the calming and energizing scents.

“We have to figure out a way to handle Fringilla till Orianna arrives.” Geralt finally spoke, smoothing his damp hair back with a hand. “I have a plan, but you’re not going to like it.”

Regis caught his line of thoughts and sat up, groaning as he did so.

“That is absolutely abhorrent and insensate.” Regis said, his eyes cold. “I forbid you from going through with it.”

“Ok, then how else are we going to manipulate her?” Geralt seethed at himself more than anything else. “There is only one way I know to actively manipulate sorceresses, and that is sex.”

“And who here is the most susceptible to her charms?” Regis fired back. “I seem to remember one Geralt of Rivia being charmed away from looking for his daughter by a waggle of pert tits and a tight cunt. How do you think the bond will function under that kind of magical stress?”

Geralt winced. He was right, but he had never heard the vampire use such coarse language. Regis’ rage was flowing through the bond.

“Do you know how it will function?” Geralt shot back, desperation filling his mind. Regis was on top of him in an instant kissing him fiercely. Geralt moaned into it, his hand coming up to cup the small of the vampire’s back.

“Geralt de Corvo Bianco, there is always another way.” Regis stated, purposefully rubbing his cheek on the hairs of Geralt’s beard, leaving his scent behind. Geralt looked at the vampire and sighed. This was going to be a long day…

 ************

When they arrived at Beauclair later in the day Regis was still dour. After a brief shouting match, and a passionate make up session, Geralt finally had him on board with the plan, though begrudgingly. Geralt didn’t feel good about the plan at all. Regis didn’t feel good about it either. But between them they knew it was their best chance to stay ahead of the game.

Geralt let out a long drawn out sigh as he dismounted Roach. The castle was abuzz and word that the Emperor’s caravan was on the move again had kicked them into high gear. People ran this way and that, cleaning supplies in hand, changing out the linens, adding the darker tints that people in the capitol favored to the crystal white and gold of Beauclair’s normal colors. In the kitchens they were testing food items, and having a brain storming session on what the Emperor would like to eat. The smells were intoxicating, and Regis had to drag himself away from a plate of garlic and butter escargot that they had offered the witcher the second they saw him roll in. Regis of course stole a couple for himself, but that wasn’t the point of this visit.

Geralt had guessed it was the rest and release of tension from himself that made the palace seem happy once more. Even with the heavy conversation with Regis earlier on his mind he felt better and clearer than he had felt in ages. Regis picked up on it as well and smiled, stopping occasionally to praise the workers as they toiled. With light streaming through stained glass the rainbows of colors created dizzying patterns. Alive, well, healing. The palace was definitely on the mend.

“Geralt!” Yennefer’s voice sounded from across the open atrium that lead to the hallway where Damien had taken up his offices. Geralt turned and smiled as the woman approached. Her hair was pinned up in a loose bun that sent her wild curls in all directions. She looked rested and the way she stepped across the space, with power and poise, spoke volumes of her wellbeing. When she reached the witcher and the vampire she looked up at them, narrowing her eyes at Geralt. Regis caught the look and swept in.

“Lady Yennefer, ravishing as always.” Regis said, lifting her hand and kissing it softly. Geralt could feel the sudden sweep of lust that slithered through the bond as the vampire’s lips met her hand. The move caught the sorceress off guard. Her brows pulled into a frown and her lips pursed as she regarded the vampire. Regis let his thirst slip through the bond as well. Geralt was intrigued, more than intrigued if he were being honest with himself. Maybe they should have waited a day to arrive at the palace, but now that ship had sailed. He hesitantly mirrored the sensations back to Regis, though his was dulled. Regis looked up at Geralt and raised a brow. A single word echoed through the bond. _Hunt._

“I wish to speak with you, both of you, before we wind up in front of the whole gaggle again.” Yennefer snapped. Geralt knew that tone.

“Trouble in paradise?” Geralt shot Regis a look and allowed her to lead them to her offices.

“In a matter of speaking.” Yennefer said coolly. Regis looked back to Geralt, and Geralt shrugged.

_She uses this tone when she is agitated and upset._ Geralt spoke through the bond. _I can smell she is stressed, and that she has been crying._

_Never a good combination._ Regis nodded.

“I can tell you are thinking about me, stop it this instant, wait till we get to my office.” Yennefer shot back over her shoulder. “And no analyzing me!”

Geralt snorted.

When they arrived and she intoned the words of power to create a shield, she sat down on her own desk, her feet dangling off the edge. Geralt’s amulet vibrated softly with the magic.

“First and foremost Geralt, I owe you an apology.” Yennefer ground out, her hands gripping the edges of the desk so hard her knuckles were turning white. Geralt gasped over dramatically and feinted into one of the plush suede chairs in front of the desk.

“The Great Yennefer of Vengerberg apologizing to a mere _witcher_! The thought! The scandal!” Geralt raised his eyebrows. Regis pointedly rolled his eyes and huffed. The small smile that pulled at Yennefer’s lips ripped through the tension of the room.

“Really Geralt?” She said, rolling her shoulders. “So juvenile.”

“You love that about me though.” Geralt grinned wolfishly and Regis sat beside him, an exasperated but shielded half smile on the vampire’s face.

“Seriously Geralt.” Yennefer’s eyes became hard. “We got everything transported here, to a safe place. Keira is currently running through all the lab equipment. Every spare moment I have where I am not sleeping I have been pouring over the documentation. They were using a code to hide what was really going on, but I broke it. It was an old cypher that we had used on and off going through school. Anyone that would have been privy to it is likely dead, dying, or currently under this roof.”

Yennefer shuddered. Her eyes became haunted and she looked at Geralt.

“I need to ask you a favor, a big one.” She said, biting at her lip. Geralt felt his muscles tense.

“I realize that this is now off limits, but I very desperately need you to open your mind to me.” Yennefer looked away and Geralt felt himself sneer. “I need to know what happened and see if there is anything that you may have looked at and overpassed that may be of use to me.”

Geralt was about to protest but Regis beat him to it. Geralt caught Regis’ thoughts and his eyes hardened.

“Lady Yennefer.” Regis stated, his tone clear. “When we arrived back at the palace a few days ago, Geralt made it abundantly clear that he would not be making his mind available any longer. Now unlike him I have a nose that is several thousand times more powerful than yours. I can also hear and see your pulse as it goes through your body. I know where the blood is going Yennefer, and I know why you are curious. Your arousal is very apparent, and has increased steadily as we have come into close quarters with you.”

Yennefer moved to protest but Regis raised his hand.

“That being said, Geralt and I have mutually decided that we are an open book so to speak, especially to those he still cares a great deal about.” Regis said, looking at Geralt who nodded.

“So he is speaking for you now?” Yennefer snarled, venom lacing her words.

“Yes.” Geralt said simply, causing Yennefer’s eyes to widen. “He has a direct line to my thoughts, he can articulate what I am feeling. If I had said all that it would have come out like ‘I told you no, I know you are horny, but I honestly don’t care. If you want to know something stop being a bitch and just ask already.’ Which you would have taken in the exact way that you are taking it now. So yes, Regis will speak for me sometimes.”

Yennefer sighed and put her fingers on her temples.

“It’s been months, Geralt.” Yennefer breathed, her walls finally coming down. “I am getting _desperate_ for fodder. You know me, you know how I am. My heart belongs to Emhyr. But I also relieve my stress this way as well. It’s driving me up the wall to know he is on the way and I cannot visit him. Your fellow witchers haven’t made a move on me, I can’t force Damien into anything, Morvran’s constant sniveling and sniffing as his fall allergies have taken root have made him unappealing. Everyone else is too afraid to appreciate my efforts without me charming them, and that’s not how I would want to go about it, not after...”

“Why can’t you just, you know, blink and go see the Emperor? Gods knows on the road he is probably more pent up than you are.” Geralt interrupted, raising a brow.

“State secrets, but let’s just say Mererid is not all he seems to be.” Yennefer sighed. “I am sorry for troubling you about this. Even more sorry that I didn’t get the documents here sooner. With the caravan of traveling people dealing with the plague, the people that need to actually comb over it with a fine tooth comb are legitimately indisposed. Politics has made a lovely web were we can’t move without setting off an army of spiders.”

Geralt sighed, his elbows going to his knees and his head hanging low.

“Not the news I wanted to hear.” Geralt groused.

“But the news you were going to hear regardless.” Yennefer said, simply looking away and over to the window. “Change of subject, but what are we going to do about Fringilla?”

Geralt looked over to Regis who instantly wrapped his clawed fingers around the leather strap of his satchel, and pointedly looked downwards. Geralt could feel resigned anger flowing through the bond. Geralt sent a wave of comfort and Regis pursed his lips, closing his eyes. Yennefer had turned and was watching the exchange with rapt attention.

_She has to know Regis._ Geralt echoed through the bond, causing the vampire to look straight up at him. _She is by and large one of my single closest friends, and the mother to my daughter. If something happens to me I don’t want her to be caught off guard._

_Not worried about her,_ worried about Fringilla. Regis seethed through the bond. _It’s bad enough that we can’t think of an alternate plan, but even more so because…_

“While it’s great to sit here in silence, as I get it so rarely these days, I would appreciate being filled in on the conversation that is going through your minds.” Yennefer huffed narrowing her eyes.

Geralt steeled himself for what was to come.

“How much do you know about my mutations?” Geralt asked, turning towards Yennefer. “Not just the standard shit either. I know Vesemir showed you a bunch of the stuff we had under lock and key, but I didn’t really care about it till recently.”

Yennefer regarded him coolly with calculating eyes.

“I know a lot about witchers, yes.” Yennefer waved her hands and a large thick book appeared and drifted slowly into her lap. She picked it up and opened it. It was labeled “Book Four: The Trial of Dreams.”

“There are six of these books at Kaer Morhen.” Yennefer stated. “Each book outlines thoroughly what is needed to bring witchers about. Book one is ‘The Trial of Choice.’”

Geralt’s eyes got wide as he watched her flipping carefully through the pages.

“The second is ‘The Trial of Grasses’, the Third is ‘Trail of the Mountain’, the fourth is of course, ‘The Trial of Dreams’, the fifth is ‘Trial of the Medallion’ and the sixth and final book is ‘The Trial of Death’.” Yennefer said, flipping through the book until she came to a specific page. Then she hopped off the desk and approached Geralt, showing him the page. “These are the concoctions needed for the Trial of Dreams, which gives witchers all their physically manifested traits, eyes, bone density, marrow, etc.”

Regis looked over at the book with the same reverence that Geralt had.

“When we had to free Avallac’h from Uma, Vesemir showed me almost everything.” Yennefer said, withdrawing the book. “And I mean everything. Primary among them being files on the still living witchers from the various schools, which Kaer Morhen, up till it was sacked, was keeping very close record of. The one damned file Vesemir would not show me was yours.”

Geralt blinked.

“There wasn’t anything about the second set of trials I went through anywhere?” Geralt asked.

“If there were I would have had it out by now I am sure.” Yennefer said, letting the book float upwards, and then disappear.

Geralt looked over at Regis, and Regis nodded.

“Well, one of the things I received during the second trial was something that will be of interest to you, and how we are going to try to keep Fringilla under lock and key.” Geralt said, standing up. He took off the ring and felt power flowing through him; his blunted fingernails lengthening to small claws. Yennefer noted the change as Geralt handed Regis the ring.

“Now comes the part that requires absolute trust.” Geralt felt power washing over him as he approached Yennefer. “I am showing you this for two reasons. The first being so if you see me do this you aren’t caught off guard, the second being you need to experience it so you can understand it, and maybe find a counter for it. Are you ok with this?”

Yennefer looked to Geralt as Regis stood behind him. Unbeknownst to her the second he took the ring off he noticed her appetizing scent permeating the room and it was so intense that her scent was all he could think about. Regis picked up on Geralt’s mood shift and smirked as he approached the desk, his practiced human movements falling away into the vampiric smoothness Geralt had gotten to know very thoroughly as of late. They were hunting. This was a hunt, and the prey was Yennefer. The thought should have startled him, but it elated him instead.

“What exactly would I be experiencing?” Yennefer asked, uncrossing her legs as she regarded the two; noting the shift in the room.

“Incontestable pleasures.” Regis hissed, leaning over the side of her desk and whispering into her ear.

“With the caveat that this is a onetime thing,” Geralt regarded Regis who chuckled. “Wouldn’t want the Emperor to hunt us down.”

Yennefer looked down.

“He wouldn’t.” She said softly. “We both bed other people, constantly. We are separated enough and virile enough that we both need to see to our physical needs as often as we can.”

“Even with your old flame?” Geralt asked.

“Especially with my old flame.” She growled, her violet eyes practically glowing.

“And you understand that he harbors no romantic feelings for you?” Regis asked, rounding the desk once more. Yennefer looked up at the two, her throat becoming dry.

“Nor I for him, not since long ago. Since before Ciri sealed the White Frost.” Yennefer sighed, the admission feeling strange. “But I am nothing if not a practical woman, my body’s needs are paramount, and it has been far too long.”

Regis trailed his long fingers under Geralt’s jaw and down his neck; the white haired witcher twitched at the touch.

“Show her, love.” Regis grinned, stepping away and reaching into his bag. Geralt felt absolutely certain they were in lockstep on this as he stepped in front of Yennefer. Regis set something down on the desk, just out of reach. Geralt knew it by its pleasant smell. He grinned.

 

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YOU CAN SKIP THIS PART IF YOU DON’T WANT TO READ YENNEFER/GERALT/REGIS SMUT

AN OVERVIEW WILL BE PROVIDED AT THE BOTTOM FOR THE IMPORTANT PLOT BITS

 

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Yennefer took a breath and leaned back, her eyes widening as Geralt willed his transformation forward. Red eyes caught hers and Geralt opened his mouth, running a tongue along his fangs. He maintained eye contact as best as he could as he pulled his tunic up over his head. The tang of female arousal filled the room as Regis divested himself of his overcoat and tunic.

“You… You are one of them.” Yennefer said breathily. “But your mutations, you still have slitted eyes…”

“I am a hybrid of sorts, which is why we need to find out more about my mutations.” Geralt said as Regis approached. “You know so much more than you are letting on. It’s infuriating. I know there is something more going on than you have told me. I will find out eventually, but for now this is your last chance Yennefer. Say no and we leave.”

Yennefer’s answer was to magic her clothes away. Her hair fell into a cascade of dark curls and framed her face as her body flushed from arousal.

Regis nipped along Geralt’s collarbone, making sure Yennefer could see every movement. Geralt for his part was instantly hard and tenting his thin trousers. Regis grinned and pulled away.

“He never did have any self-control.” Yennefer husked as she watched the two hungrily.

“No, he doesn’t, which is one of the things I find most charming about him.” Regis grinned, trailing over to the desk. He sat on the edge and pulled off his pants, revealing his own leaking erection. Yennefer gasped as Geralt looked over to Regis and grinned.

“May I?” She asked, her hand reaching out hesitantly, looking to Geralt.

“Please do.” Geralt rumbled, unlacing his own pants.

“I have always had a fascination with magical creatures.” Yennefer said, reaching down and cupping Regis with her small hands. “You seem to be more aroused than I anticipated.”

Geralt stroked at himself as Yennefer explored Regis, her fingers running along the vampire’s length and stopping at the tip. Regis kicked his head back and that same intoxicating scent that had been in their house suddenly flooded into the room, making Geralt’s nostrils flare.

“Geralt and I… well…” Regis huffed as she applied pressure to the head of his cock and stroked down expertly through the trail of leaking precum. “We are at the tail end of what I can only describe as a rut. We have been at each other since we left here, and have only just now regained enough of our faculties to be able to at least pretend to function. Though I think we may have been a little premature in our attempts.”

Geralt approached the two, growling as he did so. Yennefer was human, a magical one, but one none the less. He was going to have to hold back, something he always did for her sake. Frustration raced through him.

“You said you were going to show me how you were going to control Fringilla.” Yennefer said, pulling back immediately as she heard him growl. Regis chuckled.

“It was not at you my dear, I promise you.” Regis pulled Geralt to him as soon as he was within reach. “He is frustrated at the prospect he is going to have to hold back, for your sake. To say we have indulged in our strengths the past few days is an understatement. I don’t think he realizes how resilient human women are in that regard.”

Yennefer blushed crimson red, her ability to control her blush gone.

“But yes Geralt, show her.” Regis leaned over and bit at Geralt’s nipple, causing the witcher to jump.

“You still sure about this, Yen?” Geralt asked, running his tongue along his fangs.

“What woman in her right mind has never fantasized about the idea of a vampire taking her, ravishing her?” Yennefer’s voice took on that husky quality women got. “The fact that I have two here is, well… not how I expected this day to go.”

“Well then.” Geralt rolled his shoulders and leaned down to eye level with Yennefer.

“Watch the tips of his fangs.” Regis said, placing his fingers under Yennefer’s jaw and reveling the fact that she shivered at the contact. Yennefer watched as Geralt sucked behind his teeth. Poison began to drip from the tips slowly into the witcher’s mouth. Yennefer’s eyes grew wide.

“Can I touch?” She asked, reaching up for Geralt’s mouth.

“Of course, it has no effect unless it’s injected or ingested.” Regis grinned. Geralt had to fight the instinct to bite at her finger as she applied light pressure to the tip of one of his fangs and gathered a drop. She looked at it. The drop had a vaguely golden hue to it. She brought it up to her nose and winced.

“It smells bitter.” Yennefer huffed. “What are its effects exactly?”

“In small doses, euphoria as it binds to the opiate receptors in the sentient brain, and it also causes an increase in testosterone and estrogen levels.” Regis said, pulling at Geralt’s hip as he stood up again. “However those are not the main effects. Phenylethylamine, for instance, the substance present in chocolate and known to cause a ‘rush’ if one eats it in large quantities; this phenylethylamine is present both in our poison, and to some extent within the human body as well, released alongside oxytocin. And then the swan’s song, the poison seeks out and increases the effect of serotonin. I am sure you are aware of its function in humans, but it functions the same way in a vampire.”

Yennefer’s eyes widened as Geralt leaned into Regis’ touch.

“Now for the nasty side effects.” Regis hummed. “It suspends hemostasis, nearly completely unless our saliva is introduced in great quantity. It forms a shield around platelets and keep them hopelessly protected for a time, and completely unable to do their task. The effect can wear off, but it’s not recommended to cut and run. It also stops production of acetylcholine, which increases the heart rate. And it seeks out the heart, where it has a very specific effect on the cardiac muscle. In the event that the heart weakens, it will fool the electrical receptors into thinking they are receiving signal, forcing the heart to beat long past when the body dies.”

Yennefer shuddered staring at the droplet on her finger again.

“That is terrifying.” Yennefer whispered.

“And electrifying.” Geralt rumbled, causing her to look up at the witcher. Regis looked to Geralt for permission and Geralt smirked, his fangs catching the light.

Regis reached over and scooped Yennefer up, causing the sorceress to startle and kick. The impact didn’t effect Regis at all. He seated her between his legs on the edge of the desk, his length pressing against her back. She stiffened as Geralt looked over to them hungrily. Regis reached his long arms around her slight form, brushing a nipple just enough to elicit a gasp from the small woman. Geralt felt himself grinning maliciously as Regis leaned down over the woman, his fingers trailing slowly from her breasts to her navel.

“Geralt… but I thought…” Yennefer arched back into Regis, her breath catching as his fingers found their way through soft curls and to her cunt, which was already dripping.

“Geralt is allowing me to indulge in something I have wanted for a long time, Yennefer.” Regis spoke low, his long fingers stroking her with a skill and surety she didn’t think he had. “Your blood has sung to me since Stygga, and I only got a mere glance at you. A small insufflate at the wondrous creature that Geralt had built you up to be throughout our travels. I knew then, just as I know now, that I must have a taste of you. A carnal meandering through the body of one Yennefer of Vengerberg.”

“Wait, I thought you didn’t partake?” Yennefer gasped, attempting weakly to push his hands away. “I thought Geralt would…”

“Oh, he will.” Regis growled and twisted his hand, causing Yennefer to arch up and call out. “Do you recall Geralt telling you about our last trip to Beauclair? The one before we met you in Stygga?”

“I don’t want to speak of that time.” Yennefer snapped, her body becoming rigid.

“Oh but you do, because you see, one of the things Geralt was tasked with while he was here the last time was the elimination of a creature you are familiar with.” Regis said, pinching at Yennefer’s nipple with the hand that wasn’t buried in her muff. “A succubus.”

Yennefer cried out, then looked pointedly to Geralt, who raised a brow.

“A damned succubus too?!” Yennefer cried out angry.

“Temper, temper Yennefer.” Regis purred in her ear. “He didn’t get a chance to spend the night with the succubus, as one in the human guise we all know as Fringilla managed to steal him away beforehand. As you can imagine my secret feelings for Geralt were just as wounded by his wanderings yours were. When I heard word of a succubus, I couldn’t believe my luck. I needed an outlet, something to let off all the pent up feelings I had building in me that I couldn’t release. But I digress… let’s ask a question here. How long does a succubus normally enchant her prey before she tires of them and seeks one anew ?

“Ahh…” Yennefer arched into Regis’ hand. “A day or two, maybe a week at most.”

“I kept her coming back for more for over three months.” Regis whispered, using his hand to emphasize the words. Yennefer was nearly undone as a gush of fluid flowed around the vampire’s fingers.

Regis grinned, leaving her in a state of want as his hand trailed away from her core, and to his nose. He inhaled her smell. Lilac and gooseberries flooded his nose on the surface, deeper still was mandrake, and wine, and at its core was Yennefer’s naturally spicy scent, and the tinny tang of her arousal. Regis shuddered and licked at his fingers, sucking at them and savoring the taste. Geralt groaned his hand around his heavy cock, precum leaking onto the floor.

“Would you like a taste?” Regis asked, holding out his hand as Yennefer attempted to wrestle control back of her body. The damned vampire had left her on the edge!

“Why are you allowing this, Geralt?” Yennefer gasped as Geralt had moved without her seeing it, and instantly had the vampire’s fingers in his mouth. He didn’t answer for a time as his laved his tongue around Regis’ fingers. Teasing the vampire, just as much as he was teasing himself. Regis’ eyes blew wide and Geralt could feel the barely constrained lust filtering through the bond.

“Because he is going to owe me, big time.” Regis’ voice took on a dangerous edge as Geralt sucked at his fingers greedily. “We are in the middle of a trade so to speak. To say I am deeply dissatisfied with the plan to keep Fringilla under our control is understating the deep current of dread I have running through me at the possibility that it will backfire. He knew the moment we got back from Dillingen that I wanted your blood. He is hunting with me, allowing me an indulgence.”

Geralt had released his hold on Regis’ fingers and Regis leaned back, huffing with the effort to not just rut into Yennefer.

“Geralt, see to her while I prepare myself.”

“Hunting…” Yennefer’s eyes got wide and the smell of panic filled the room. Geralt grabbed her by the hips and moved her to the edge of the desk before she could protest. She attempted to close her legs but Geralt kneeled on the floor, pushing her knees apart. His eyes had changed back to their familiar yellow, and the second his mouth made contact with her she understood why. Her legs clenched around his head and her fingers ripped into his hair. Regis chuckled darkly behind her.

“You want to understand the nature of our poison and how we utilize it.” Regis purred, listening keenly to the obscene noises coming from Geralt as he licked and sucked at the raven haired woman. “It starts with a smell, the smell of rainwater in my case, and Geralt, I have pinpointed his own unique scent to shale. The second we came to terms with one another that this was a hunt, we begin scenting. This lowers your guard, making you vulnerable to influence. Neither of us would have taken advantage of you had you not agreed, but we also could have made it impossible for you to say no. Our smells complement each other, which means as hunting partners we would be a deadly pair were we to choose that path.”

“You being a sorceress we had to be doubly careful.” Regis said, popping the tincture he had set on the desk. “Now that we have you at least partially under our influence we need to not exert the full power of our will. You need access to just enough magic to keep up the barrier you have been maintaining, but not enough access that you would, or could, injure us. It’s a delicate balance, one that I am leading at the moment because Geralt, as you know, really isn’t a vampire. He just has this strange set of vampire traits, likely caused by that second set of trials.”

“Could have entirely fooled me.” Yennefer gasped, grinding her sex against Geralt’s quickly working mouth. “Why do you have such an influence over him? I have never seen him obey someone as he does you. Not even me, not even when I used magic to coerce him.”

The sudden sharp pain as her labia were bit caused her to cry out. Geralt moved up from his task.

“I am listening to him, because I have a stake in this.” Geralt growled dangerously. “I am not deaf Yennefer, and you are dangerously close to me forgoing this all together and just biting you. You have always done that, tried to control, tried to make me do what you said. And because I loved you I did, I attempted to do as you asked.”

“Control is the thing you have craved more than anything in the world, it’s something you got in abundance, but every time you got it you only wanted more.” Geralt hissed, his eyes cold as Regis began to lick and bite, small bruises appearing on Yennefer’s shoulder and neck. “Well guess what, you don’t have any control here, not now.”

Regis shifted, coating his cock in oil as Geralt reached forwards and his fingers found Yennefer’s core. Yennefer gasped as his thick fingers found their way in and she grabbed at his wrist. Regis moaned behind her as Geralt’s eyes changed again.

“How would you like it if we took it all away? If we made you scream our names for all to hear, letting the palace know we are laying claim to you?” Geralt hissed against her. “How would you like them to know how tight and wet your little cunt is, and how much your virgin asshole craves to be filled to the brim?”

Yennefer startled against the motion of his hands and twisted around to look at Regis, who had corked the bottle. He stroked his length wantonly, grinning at Yennefer.

“Would have thought with your reputation that this is something you would have partaken in long ago.” Regis said as Geralt lifted her, fingers still deep inside her. Yennefer startled forward and clung to Geralt.

“And I have no want to partake now.” Yennefer hissed, her fingers tightening on Geralt’s shoulders. “My arse has one function… oh… ahhh!”

Regis’ hand had come up and traced along the crack of her ass, slick with oil. Leaving coolness in its wake. Her body betrayed her as she arched her back. Regis’ finger applied pressure to the opening, and Yennefer hissed as the finger plunged into her. Geralt twisted his hand and she thrust downward on both mewling as her whole body seemed to flush.

“Gods yes!” Yennefer called out, bringing her legs up; she was gone. “Fuck me, gods do anything, move, kill me, I don’t care just… move! Ahhh.”

“Such a vulgar mouth on such a stunning woman.” Regis grinned and Geralt leaned forward biting on the slight woman’s shoulder hard enough to draw two little droplets of blood, but not enough to poison her. The pain caused her to reach up and grab Geralt around the neck. Geralt grinned as the hand closed around his throat.

“What are you getting out of this, you horrible vile man.” Yennefer growled, trying to squeeze. His neck was like stone, and didn’t move under her fingers.

“Revenge, plain and simple.” Geralt grinned, scissoring his fingers and causing her to release her hold as another moan took her and shook her from her toes. “We may have talked it out, may have chosen our paths, but if there is anything in this universe I hate, it’s betrayal. I have you in a position you never are in. You are vulnerable, and you want what we are giving you. Your body knows what it wants. You are a subject to my whims now, not the other way around. Regis, forward.”

Regis removed his hand from Yennefer’s back side and the whine she released and the shamed look she shot to Geralt let him know he was on the right path. The vampire shifted himself to the edge of the desk and spread his legs, grabbing his cock. Geralt brought the woman back and Regis reached up to hold the woman’s legs apart. Geralt removed his fingers and positioned her.

“Revenge?” Yennefer hissed.

“A small bit of pain, and then earth shattering pleasure that you will never again get to experience.” Geralt sneered, feeling the cue from Regis that she was in the right spot. “A taste of what you could have had, had you treated me like anything but a puppet or a trophy. A single moment for me to savor the last of what I would have had that night had you not smelled of him. A final goodbye I never got, by introducing you to him whom I stand by now as an equal. And a taste of ambrosia so sweet it will burn itself into my memories.”

Geralt lowered her onto Regis’ cock. She screamed in pleasure as he breached her asshole, her limbs lashing out. Vampiric and witcher hands kept her body steady as Geralt pushed down on her shoulders, forcing her to sheath the vampire in a single fluid movement. Regis moaned and shifted as Yennefer tightened around him, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The smell of pain flooded the room, followed instantly by a wave of arousal from the woman.

Geralt released her shoulders and drank in the sight as Regis grabbed her from behind. He lifted her minutely and thrust upwards. She called out. Geralt shifted himself between her and Regis’ legs.

“Geralt, she is exquisite.” Regis huffed. “Come you must join us.”

“This is unfair, Geralt.” Yennefer keened as Geralt pressed his body into hers. Regis reached up and grabbed her neck with his long hands, effectively choking off her words.

“You would be wise to watch your words, human.” Regis hissed, his voice darkening as his hands tightened. “If you’d done to me what you have done to him you’d be in exquisite agony now. I am holding back for his sake, for Ciri’s sake. The truth of the matter is I want to drain you till your husk crumbles into dust.”

Yennefer gasped as the vampire’s fingers let go, surely leaving bruises and Geralt positioned himself at her entrance. When he thrust forward she was tight, tighter still made by the fact that Geralt could feel Regis inside her as well. When Regis shifted Geralt gasped. He pulled back and thrust forward and Regis moaned. Geralt was not expecting this. When he did it again Yennefer clamped down on the both of them.

“To be filled, truly filled.” Yennefer gasped, rolling her hips against the witcher and the vampire. “Please… gods. Please Geralt, Regis… devour me.”

Geralt and Regis began to thrust. As soon as they found a pattern Yennefer lost her mind. She was clawing at them as they moved, spitting and biting. Her sounds were lost and animalistic in a way Geralt had never heard before as she lost control. Pure magic whipped around the room causing Geralt’s amulet to jump and shudder. As the first orgasm washed over the woman she screamed, the barrier wavering for a second as she rode out the wave. The spasms made Regis hiss as she tightened down on both of them, nearly to the point of pain.

Geralt grinned and continued to thrust. He could feel Regis inside of her as the vampire moved against him. Yennefer was howling. Geralt felt himself beginning to get close.

“Geralt, it’s now or never, I can’t hold off much longer!” Regis groaned, thrusting up into Yennefer frantically.

“Gods, I am going to come again!” Yennefer howled, tears forming in her eyes. There was no pain for her, only pleasure as she was filled and stretched.

Geralt and Regis’ eyes met. Geralt lifted Yennefer almost off of their cocks, and smirked as she shook.

“And now, we feast.”

Geralt felt his fangs pierce her skin and tasted the bitterness of the poison he began to pump into her with each draw of her blood. Her taste shifted as Regis bit and did the same. Euphoria rocketed through the two males and the female trapped between them, Geralt could feel Regis swallowing greedily. When the vampire pulled away and roared Geralt moaned against the woman’s skin. Regis’ thrusts became erratic as he came, blood dripping from his mouth to his chest. The sight sent Geralt over the edge and caused him to bite down harder as he felt himself filling Yennefer with his seed.

Yennefer screamed and a gush of warm wetness flooded forward as she lost herself. Geralt pulled off of her and rode out the rest of his intense orgasm with his head tilted back.

“Geralt, that’s enough my love, let’s stop before we bleed her to death..” Regis panted, leaning forward and licking at the wound he had made, his cheeks flushed. Geralt nipped at his nose and brought the vampire up into a bloody kiss across Yennefer’s shoulder as the woman shuddered between them. She had tasted every bit as delicious as Geralt had imagined. Regis pulled away and licked at the other wound on the woman’s neck, closing it. Geralt pulled away and shuddered as he popped free of his warm wet prison.

When he stepped back he realized what had happened and the smell that hit him a moment later confirmed it. Yennefer had lost control of herself utterly. Geralt felt proud at that. Regis displaced her off of him and she fell back bonelessly against the surface of the desk while Regis disengaged, his nose wrinkling.

“I made a mess.” Yennefer whimpered, her legs finally coming together; her hand feeling the puddle that was dripping off the desk and onto the floor. “I made a mess of everything, Geralt.”

Geralt pulled Regis up off the desk and clung to him, breathing in his scent.

“You did.” Geralt growled, nipping at Regis’ shoulders. The vampire keened in satisfaction.

“That threat you made the other night about tearing the castle down to its foundations was not idle was it?” Yennefer asked, tears coming out of her eyes. “You have the power to do that now.”

“I do.” Geralt said simply.

Yennefer choked.

“And what we face is worse than any strength you could have gained, or you wouldn’t be so afraid.” Yennefer looked up at the vampire and the witcher.

“He is more powerful than you can imagine, Yennefer.” Regis said, shuddering against Geralt’s touch.

“Then the gods help us.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important plot bits in the porny part:
> 
> Geralt shows Yennefer his fangs, Regis explains that the poison that comes from them can not do anything from skin contact, it has to be injected, or ingested for any sort of effect. 
> 
> Venom has a slightly yellow caste to it (think rattlesnake venom)
> 
> In small doses the venom causes euphoria as it binds to the opiate receptors in the sentient brain, and it also causes an increase in testosterone and estrogen levels. It effects Phenylethylamine production as well, for instance, the substance is also present in chocolate, and it is known to cause a ‘rush’ of pleasant feelings if one eats it in large quantities; this phenylethylamine is present both the vampires poison as well as the human body. It is released alongside oxytocin (human bonding hormone). And then the swan’s song, the poison seeks out and increases the effect of serotonin. Serotonin has the same effects in both vampires and humans.
> 
> The poison has nasty side effects. It suspends hemostasis aka the clotting of blood, nearly completely unless our saliva is introduced in great quantity. It forms a shield around platelets and keep them hopelessly protected for a time, and completely unable to do their task. The effect can wear off, but it’s not recommended to cut and run. It also stops production of acetylcholine, which increases the heart rate. And it seeks out the heart, where it has a very specific effect on the cardiac muscle. In the event that the heart weakens, it will fool the electrical receptors into thinking they are receiving signal, forcing the heart to beat long past when the body dies.
> 
> They go over vampire hunting. It starts with the scent. The scent relaxes victims, makes them susceptible to manipulation. Regis states that a vampire’s scent is powerful enough that they can emotionally manipulate people into doing exactly what they want.
> 
> *************
> 
> Compleatly self indulgent chapter for myself... and as I am writing this story for myself??? You all get to suffer through it if you wanna continue reading it! HEE HEEE 


	33. licentious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt attempts to initiate the plan he came up with, and things go terribly wrong....
> 
> Spell be damned. Geralt reached for the vampire and grabbed his hand, feeling its shaking. Pain pierced through the veil of Geralt’s mind, and he felt blood welling up into his nose and ears and mouth, as he gripped onto the cool appendage. Steeling himself against the white hot agony he knew would follow, he pulled himself into the vampire’s arms and embraced him. Fringilla made a surprised noise of disgust, looking down to her hands in alarm. Geralt felt blood well in his mouth and he kissed the vampire, letting his blood coat his tongue. When he opened his mouth to Regis, fire raced through them both. He felt Regis tighten his grip around him. 
> 
> _I will not lose you, Regis, not for anyone. Not if I have to kill myself to see us together._ Geralt called through the bond, sending as much love as he could muster now that he was feeling searing pain rip through his body. The pulsing agony that Regis sent back was nearly too much to bare.
> 
> **************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!  
>  **  
> **  
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff
> 
> **************
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**
> 
> Mentions of aftermath of last chapter (Sorry)   
> Non-con magical mind control(Fingilla/Geralt)   
> non-con sexual groping (Fringilla/geralt)  
> Blood play  
> Dub con-Choking  
> violence durring sex (biting)  
> four way free for all  
> Anal  
> rimming  
> hand jobs  
> blood drunk
> 
> ****************

Yennefer quickly magicked the mess away once she regained control of herself. Yennefer, much to Geralt’s chagrin, also thought that trying to manipulate Fringilla was a fool’s errand, if only because his latent humanity made him vulnerable to magical manipulation. Then came the next big hiccup in the plan, something that Geralt hadn’t fully wrapped his mind around yet.

Orianna.

Try as he might, the best he had come up with was “Leave instructions with a crow, and if she wants to confront me she will.” Yennefer had nearly laughed him out of the room. She was right to do so, and Regis voiced such with vehemence. Having both of them against him made him broody, but there wasn’t any time to dwell on it.

When Yennefer was satisfied with the state of her room, as well as the state of the witcher and the vampire, she dropped the barrier. The second she did a courier blasted in.

“Lady Yennefer!” The panicked man said, handing her a scroll. “There has been an attack on Dillingen.”

Regis stiffened and Geralt tensed as they waited for Yennefer to read the missive. Then she laughed. Without further word she handed the scroll to Geralt and started walking out the door. Geralt raised his brows, and Regis pensively grabbed the front of his satchel as the two followed, reading the missive. There had been an attack, yes, but one the Nilfgaardians had been aptly prepared. Yennefer explained with great pride that she left Silas and the Nilfgaardian commander with some special tools to serve them should they need them. Orianna had only shown up with a dozen lesser vampires; she had underestimated them, and because of that they’d been able to dispatch most of the vampires. No loss of life on the human side of things, but Orianna had fled and would likely be coming back here.

“I am eternally grateful that they managed to repel the vampires.” Regis said, sidling up next to Geralt as they walked through the palace to Damien’s office.

“Yeah, it would have been bad to have had to go back there and see the town laid to waste.” Geralt frowned.

Geralt was dour, and his end of the bond was filled to the brim with swirling confusing thoughts. Regis, sensing his mental state, looked over to him and the vampire must have realizing it was partly his fault, as guilt was starting to trickle over their bond.

“How are you, Geralt?” Regis asked, slowing his speed as Yennefer caught up with someone from the palace staff, asking about having food delivered to Damien’s office.

“Honestly, that was one of the most harebrained things I have taken part in, and I have had some pretty strange encounters.” Geralt said, looking at the vampire. “Could you have craved any other blood?”

Regis winced, he had hit the nail on the head.

“Hmmmm. Yes actually, however, you are still extremely unguarded when it comes to your thoughts.” Regis stepped closer to Geralt, brushing shoulders with him. “The amount of times you have thought of Yennefer and how you were wronged by her has been staggering; it was almost a constant flow. For someone who is supposed to have little to no emotional depth, the swirl of feelings that surround that woman in your mind is staggering. I picked it apart over the past few days and if I am to be honest I was feeling petty.”

Geralt snorted. Petty was an understatement of the highest magnitude. Fucking your mate’s ex and then convincing him to join in the party was pretty high up there on the fucked up end of things. He wasn’t angry, just confused. He was feeling off balance, like what they had done had been bad, but the way Regis preened afterwards had filled Geralt with an odd sort of pride. Geralt shook his head and looked at the vampire. He was learning that Regis, now that he wasn’t hiding himself, was a being of great sexual want, who had been denied, or had denied himself for years. Now that the flood gates were opened Geralt was finding that Regis’ drive to fornicate surpassed his own and that excited him. Their romp with Yennefer would be just a one-time thing though, luckily. Geralt sighed.

“I needed it, yes.” Geralt said begrudgingly. “I don’t like not getting closure, and a lot of what happened between myself and Yen never was addressed, other than a few talks here and there, and those were done with baited breath. I don’t feel as tense in her presence now. It’s refreshing, and to be honest I am surprised she isn’t seething at us right now. She is taking this extremely well considering it’s her ass that was being pounded.”

Regis grinned.  Geralt glared at him without heat, then turned to look at Yennefer. She was limping just slightly, causing Geralt to grin a bit.

“But no more of it.” Geralt said, sighing, the events yet to come later today weighing on his mind. “I only wish the vampires would fight each other and eat Fringilla in the process. Would make my life so much simpler and I could go home and retire and farm grapes and get fat.”

“The vampires are going to lay low for a time.” Regis shuttered his eyes for a moment. Geralt could feel him doing something with the bond. Dettlaff was awake; Geralt could feel him and Regis communicating for a minute.

“Dettlaff said the last of his charges have returned after the Elder gave the order to lay low and go to ground.” Regis said, his eyes popping open. “Turns out that little stunt at the orphanage has rippled through my kind. “

“Good.” Geralt growled.

When they arrived at Damien’s office, both of them still trailing behind Yennefer, there was a commotion. A young lord was upset that his stipend had been waylaid in the efforts to keep the plague at bay in Toussaint. When the three of them stepped into the office the man was making his case. Morvran was standing against the desk, his eyes hard. Damien was addressing the man while sitting at his desk, writing furiously on several writs. There was one other person in the office causing issues. One which Geralt wasn’t prepared to see quite yet. When she saw him her eyes lit up.

“Geralt! Regis!” She beamed, causing Geralt to roll his eyes. “Yennefer….”

The look the two women gave each other was venomous.

“There has been a declared state of emergency.” Damien said, reading over the writs quickly, and adding his own notes, or signing those that were ready to be signed. “Until it is rescinded there will be no one getting anything, including us. Now good day, Sir.”

The man huffed and turned. He startled when he noticed Regis and Geralt and bolted for the door.

They all waited for the heavy door to click closed. When it did so the environment turned hostile immediately.

“Ah, now all the players that currently matter are here.” Fringilla said coolly. “You have run my kingdom into the ground Damien, a shame. Poor man, and loyal to my dearest cousin too. Such a waste to have her tied up in the tower.”

“You have made your issues on the matter known many times over, Fringilla.” Damien was attempting not to rise to the bait; he had worked with her before, and knew how manipulating she could be. “She will not be released until the Emperor has passed down his judgement.”

“What are your thoughts on this, Geralt?” Fringilla turned to him, forcing the witcher to acknowledge her. “They won’t even let me see my poor dear Anarietta!”

“She is still alive?” Geralt blurted, causing the room to suck in a collective breath.

“Wait, she is hurt?” Fringilla asked, her voice raising in pitch. “What has happened to her?”

“You may as well tell her, Geralt, since you let the proverbial cat out of the bag.” Yennefer groused, sitting on Damien’s desk. She made a quick dismissive motion with her hands. “Go on, do tell her what has befallen the beloved Duchess.”

“You know she is on the block, that’s why you are here. You, Ciri, Morvran and the Emperor are the last living relatives of the line.” Geralt said and Fringilla nodded, her eyes narrowing as she regarded Morvran. “Well everything has been complicated because of the plague. Your cousin, the Duchess was one of the first struck down by the disease and is considered patient zero here at the palace.”

Fringilla went pale despite her glamoring charms covering up her actual physical reactions.

“How?” She asked.

“Turns out there is a cosmetic that has been passed around that is full of the plague.” Regis said, causing Fringilla to whip around at the vampire. “We have been investigating its source with little luck, however, one of our compatriots happened to have the cure and an inoculation. Now all that’s left to do is to find this source.”

“Correct me if I am wrong, but didn’t you die at Stygga?” Fringilla growled, her eyes narrowing. Geralt stiffened and moved to grab the sorceress. Regis’ fear flashed across the bond and Geralt told him to calm down, while he attempted to do the same.

“The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” Regis shrugged.

“How did you survive?” Fringilla sneered.

“A tale for another time.” Yennefer said flippantly, glaring at Fringilla. Geralt blinked when his amulet started to vibrate. He looked at Regis, who had noticed as well, then to Yennefer. When Yennefer looked at him, confused, Fringilla made her move.

“Yes, I suppose it is.” Fringilla moved quick as a cat and caught Geralt by the arm. Geralt didn’t have enough time to fully defend himself, but he managed to put a mental wedge in his mind. He felt the intention of the spell and felt it washing over him, and now he realized what Regis had been fearing. He called out to Regis through the bond, as his mouth wasn’t going to move on its own.

_She’s got me, the dimeritium, it’s not pure, or something’s wrong!_ Geralt called out through the bond, his body rebelling against him. _Fighting it enough so that she doesn’t have me all the way. When we leave let Yennefer know something is wrong._

_Geralt… You know I am not comfortable in the least about this!_ Regis pleaded over the bond as the conversation outside Geralt’s mind turned inane. _Please, we have to find another way. I am begging you Geralt!_

Geralt’s eyes locked onto Regis’, his expression a firm mask. Regis’ eyes were wide and the vampire looked crestfallen. Geralt could feel the echo of what he was going to say.

_You remember when we had to get your blood for the resonance?_ Geralt pushed through the bond. _Do you remember your exact words to me when I said that we shouldn’t have done that? You said it was “My choice and the only way”. Now it’s your turn, You need to trust me, please! Otherwise we will shoot ourselves in the foot._

_I fear that has already happened._ Regis’ face was crumpled and he looked disconsolate, sorrow and anger floating through the bond. Geralt felt the bond numb, and white hot panic shot through him. He couldn’t school his expression as he reached out for Regis.

_Don’t do this!_ Geralt screamed through the bond. He forced himself to move and sent his body stumbling towards the vampire, ripping away from Fringilla’s arm. Regis winced, his hand tentatively reaching for Geralt.

_If I don’t numb my end of it from you, then I fear what I will do to her and we need her alive for information._

Spell be damned. Geralt reached for the vampire and grabbed his hand, feeling its shaking. Pain pierced through the veil of Geralt’s mind, and he felt blood welling up into his nose and ears and mouth, as he gripped onto the cool appendage. Steeling himself against the white hot agony he knew would follow, he pulled himself into the vampire’s arms and embraced him. Fringilla made a surprised noise of disgust, looking down to her hands in alarm. Geralt felt blood well in his mouth and he kissed the vampire, letting his blood coat his tongue. When he opened his mouth to Regis, fire raced through them both. He felt Regis tighten his grip around him.

_I will not lose you, Regis, not for anyone. Not if I have to kill myself to see us together._ Geralt called through the bond, sending as much love as he could muster now that he was feeling searing pain rip through his body. The pulsing agony that Regis sent back was nearly too much to bare.

“That is quite enough, pet.” Fringilla called, her words forcibly ripping Geralt away from the vampire’s mouth. A drip of blood ran down Regis’ chin as he looked at Geralt, dumbfounded.

“What the hell?” Yennefer broke out of her shocked trance, finally getting her wits about her again. “Fringilla, let him go this instant!”

“I think not Yennefer, you had your fun with him, now it’s my turn.” Fringilla sneered. “Sorry Regis, it’s been fun, and I am sure you are enamored with him, but he is mine now for a time. I promise I won’t break him… _too much_.”

Geralt couldn’t react as unhinged anger raced its way through the bond. Regis was looking at the two of them, his brows drawn, his lip curled up just enough that his fangs were just barely visible.

“I thought she couldn’t use magic?” Morvran balked as he moved away from the sorceress, startled.

“Ah my dearest sniveling cousin, you shouldn’t speak about that which you do not know.” Fringilla sneered, grabbing Geralt’s arm again and walking towards the door.

“What the fuck did you do?” Yennefer practically shouted, magic welling around her.

Chaos surrounded him. Geralt was screaming through the bond, regret washing over him as he watched Regis reach up and touch the blood on his chin. Somewhere deep inside he felt a voice laughing at him, laughing at his failures. Geralt tried to pull away once again.

“Have him then.” Regis said softly. The room was silenced and the magic Yennefer had been gathering died on the spot.

Fringilla grinned triumphantly.

Geralt had just enough power to look back at the vampire before he was dragged from the door. Regis’ black eyes caught his and Geralt felt his heart shattering at the sorrow he saw there.

Fringilla led them through the palace to an area Geralt wasn’t intimately familiar with. Fear had scorched its way through him. He knew he would have to act quickly to get out of her hold, but the magic was strong. He thought for sure he had fucked up everything, but a small pulse of _I am still here_ let Geralt know that Regis had dulled the bond, not annulled it.

Geralt felt an instant trickling relief, bolstering his efforts to unwind the spell from his mind. He thanked his lucky stars for that. He called up his mutations to calm himself as he looked down to the short haired sorceress with the strappy corset and overly puffy sleeves. All the while she was chattering like a magpie. The sound was annoying, grating, and he began to use her own voice as the anchor to peel away the layers of the spell. When they arrived to a sitting lounge with the doors outside flung open and a spread of food, Geralt for once didn’t feel like eating.

“Now that we are away from prying eyes, lets get re-acquainted.” Fringilla purred, leading him to the table outside on the balcony. She traced a hand through his beard and Geralt flinched. She eyed him for a moment before turning and approaching the other end of the table. He sat down with a huff and she smiled, sitting across from him.

“How have you been in the four years since I saw you last?” She asked, simply pouring him some wine. “And try not to resist me, it will make it easier in the end.”

“Excellent.” Geralt ground out. He rudely popped a strawberry in his mouth and set the leaves on the table. Fringilla looked at him like a monster for a moment but schooled her features. “But why would it matter how I have been? The last time I even attempted to talk to you, you brushed me off like a flea.”

Fringilla’s expression soured.

“Ah, but it matters to me now. Care to elaborate on your ‘excellent’ state?” She asked, leaning forward and grabbing some small food items to put on a plate. “We haven’t seen each other in years Geralt, I must know what exactly you have been up to.”

Geralt knew what she was doing. She was probing him for information. He had to figure out a way to circumvent the information she wanted, and just give her bits of nothing. He felt the spell wavering slightly as his efforts pushed against it.

“Wound up training Ciri as a first rate witcher.” Geralt cursed himself mentally, his voice halting with the effort to resist the spell. “That took three years, then I came here when I found out your cousin had a contract. She set me to find out who had been killing notable knights from the duchy. Turns out it was a vampire.”

“Ah yes, news did reach me about that.” She said, watching as Geralt downed his glass of wine like a shot. Geralt blinked, it was Sangreal. Fringilla balked at him as he unceremoniously reached over for the bottle, poured himself another glass, shot it down and then filled the glass a third time, swirling it around the cup.

“Geralt, I am trying to have a civilized conversation here!” Fringilla hissed. “Do you realize how expensive that wine is??”

“Sangreal.” Geralt felt the path opening in his mind, and he brought the wine glass under his nose, taking a long sniff of the rich, well aged wine. “Reserved only for those of the royal household. Beautiful floral notes, spicy, mixed berry fruit flavors that envelop the palate. A gorgeous array of flavors, incredible intensity and concentration with a very long finish. A magnificent, sublime wine that seduces the palate with its complexity and depth.”

She outright sputtered as Geralt took another sip. His brows furrowed.

“1263 vintage, not a fine year as far as wines go, but a significant number for your family, yes?” Geralt eyed the sorceress as she choked and looked at Geralt. “It’s the year Duke Raymond died and your cousin took over.”

“How on earth do you know all that?” She asked, taking her own sip, her eyes wide. The spell was wavering in earnest now, as Geralt had broken Fringilla’s concentration.

“Your cousin gifted me an estate for my troubles with the vampire, and after she threw me in prison and her plots against the empire were exposed I regained said estate and retired.” Geralt said, feeling the wine rushing to his head. He grabbed some cheese and fruit and didn’t bother to plate them just popping them in his mouth.

“Turns out, I like wine.” Geralt growled, chewing loudly and causing Fringilla to wince. “I really like wine. I am good at making it, witcher nose and all. I could list off the ingredients in this one, how long it’s been aged, where it’s been aged, what kind of wood was used, how hot the fire for the barrel was. You name it.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Fringilla snorted. “You know wine is sacred here in Toussaint!”

“And as sacred as it is, and was, you and your family saw fit to not share this exclusive wine with the royal table despite the decree initially set down by Emperor Fergus var Emreis and upheld to this day by Emperor Emhyr.” Geralt grinned at the woman as she stiffened. “And that’s just one drop in a long list of items that your cousin is charged with. At minimum just this one item is considered theft from the Imperial table and at minimum, according to custom, she should be tossed into a bag of snakes and thrown into the river.”

Geralt suddenly felt Regis’ humor through the dulled bond, he had been listening. Geralt sagged visibly as part of the spell cracked, leaving him feeling boneless.

“What became of her, Geralt?” Fringilla’s eyes were downcast as Geralt re-schooled his expression and sat back up. The wine was dulling the magic pull.

“She’s been imprisoned in the tower for a long while now.” Geralt said, acting like he was pondering the matter. “Regis was called upon because he is a physician and she was feeling out of sorts. I was along as a guard. When we got there she turned out to have the actual Catriona plague, the one that is currently ravaging the nation. Luckily we knew another sorceress who’d been successful at making a cure. We got it to her as soon as we could, but…”

“Did you figure out the cause?” Fringilla asked, imploring Geralt with her eyes. Geralt fished for something in his belt bag and drew it out. It was the vial of blood. He had kept it on his person so, if needed, he could use it for tracking purposes. He handed the vial to the sorceress. Her eyes widened in recognition for a moment before she schooled her features again. Geralt had to bite his lip to keep from acting against her, magical leash or not.

_She knows what it is._ Geralt blasted through the bond.

_Got it._ Regis’ soft answer came back. This was torture, but relief trickled in as Regis opened the bond further.

“Need that back.” Geralt growled, reaching for the vial and taking it from her fingers before she could protest.

“Are you tracking who did this?” Fringilla asked, her expression suddenly stern.

“I am, was pulled out of retirement for it.” Geralt groused. “Not my idea of fun and I have reached a dead end. Ah well.”

They sat for a moment as she worrying at her lip.

“So what have you been up to since the battle with the Hunt?” Geralt asked.

Fringilla looked at him, surprised. He felt another tether of the spell snap. Geralt grabbed a sausage and tore into it, blinking at her… waiting.

“You know, right after the battle no one really cared where we went.” Fringilla started, looking out across Toussaint. “I wound up back with the Lodge for a time, but a business venture I had started down here before you showed up the first time really started to take off. I left Philippa and Francesca to their own devices and headed back down here to make sure things were running smoothly. I realized when I got here that I needed to take on an apprentice to help me keep things running the way I wanted. So I did. The Lodge didn’t take kindly to it since I didn’t ask their permission.”

Geralt took a sip of wine to help him school his expression as memories of him and Regis bonding while Fringilla’s apprentice hung impaled and dying brought a small smile to his lips.

“Apparently my dear cousin Emhyr decided that he wanted to go on another bug hunt for us mages, those that had wronged him and his – whatever she is.” Fringilla seethed, taking a crawfish and snapping it violently in half. “Turns out the one directing his movements was none other than Yennefer of Vengerberg. She was still sore over what you and I had apparently, and the second the Lodge offered me up as a sacrifice for their own lives I was scooped up and taken back to the capital. A pity too, I had just set up a second warehouse to crate my goods before shipping them out.”

“What kind of goods if you don’t mind me asking, seems like you were pretty invested?” Geralt asked, looking out to the mountains.

“Oh, you know, simple things. Cosmetics and the like.” She said, waving her hand. “They are lucky, I had just returned from a trip north to make sure things were running the way we wanted to when I got picked back up. If I had been at my production facility, it would have been a completely different story.”

Geralt picked up an apple and bit into it, sucking on its sweetness and allowing the venom that was building up behind his teeth to find a release.

“It’s strange Geralt.” Fringilla said, her expression completely sincere as she took a sip of her own wine. “I have not heard from my apprentice for some time now. Sometimes there were hiccups in our communication, but it’s been nearly four months since she made contact. I am wondering how she is handling things.”

“Why not just set up a megascope?” Geralt asked.

“If it were that simple I would have done so already.” She laughed shallowly. “No Geralt, something seems to be amiss.”

“Lots of things amiss these days.” Geralt nodded.

“You know who I haven’t heard from in longer?” Fringilla asked, obviously in a reminiscing mood. Geralt felt the spell slipping the more she relaxed and felt more control come over himself and his words.

“Who is that?” Geralt asked, watching her like a hawk now that she was letting her control slip.

“I had a very dear friend who ran an orphanage here in Beauclair.” She sighed wistfully. Geralt felt his throat close and he had to force himself to calm.

“Sounds like she was more than a friend.” Geralt said, picking up on her heartbeat increase. She glared daggers at him for a moment.

“Witcher, _remember_ , I can heart your heart rate, and smell your… changes.” Geralt’s eyes were sharp, watching her every move now

“She was.” Fringilla looked down and Geralt felt his fingers begin to cramp from holding onto the chair so hard. “I haven’t been able to travel outside the palace. I would dearly like to visit her.”

“I hope you are not talking about La Compassion Orphanage, run by a women named Orianna.” Geralt bit into his apple to hide another smug expression. Fringilla looked up, curiosity written on her face.

“You know her?” Fringilla asked, her heartbeat increasing. Geralt shrugged.

“I met her a little over a year ago, when I was on that contract for your cousin.” Geralt’s eyes were glued to the sorceress’. “We met because she was a vampire, and Regis and I needed her help to catch the beast of Beauclair. She was hosting a large party at her estate. Very generous host, kept strange company though.”

“She was a vampire?” Fringilla scoffed. Geralt felt his rage peak, and the spell broke. Relief washed over him and Regis pushed support through the bond. He was in full control of himself once again. She didn’t realize it. He looked at her, watching as her neck flushed beneath the glamour she had put on herself. She knew damned well that Orianna was a vampire.

“It was kind of hard not to when she wound up throwing a thief across the room and out a window from twenty feet away.” Geralt growled. “Then to top it off she invited the beast I was hunting to an after party between myself, Regis and her. Needless to say after the night of long fangs, we found out her orphanage had been sacked. The sole survivor was a little boy and he had been traumatized.

“Sacked? By what?” Fringilla asked, her brows narrowing.

“Vampires.” Geralt stated, looking her straight in the eye.

“Why would a vampire attack their own?” Geralt caught the slip, but Fringilla didn’t seem to notice.

“Beats me.” Geralt shrugged, his fingers now having cracked the arm of his chair.

Fringilla sighed and looked at Geralt. Geralt schooled his eyes to open just slightly wider at her glance. She smiled fondly.

“You know I missed you.” She said, catching Geralt off guard as the smell of female arousal tapered in around him. “Those months we spent here in Beauclair in each other's arms are some of my fondest memories.”

“Oh really?” Geralt asked, his patience finally breaking. “Your fondest memories are of charming me, taking advantage of me? All the while my daughter, and my lover at the time, were being tortured?”

Fringilla’s eyes went wide as Geralt stood, his eyes glowing with menace.

“You have no shame, none of your sorceresses have any.” Geralt hissed. “You sit there and claim you love a person only to manipulate them, refuse them a right to choose. You, Fringilla, are the lowest of the low. They could have died. They almost did. My Hanza, every last one of them died that day, and because of you I lost...”

“They didn’t though, did they?” Fringilla stood and blasted right back. “Ciri and Yennefer survived.”

“You think that because they didn’t perish that somehow makes it ok?” Geralt yelled, anger rolling off of him. “I lost more than you can imagine that day. I may not be together with Yen any longer but both Ciri and herself carry scars that are so deep it’s a wonder they can function at all. All thanks to you and your Lodge. Go to hell Fringilla, it’s the only place that would be fitting for you.”

Geralt turned and walked from the room. He heard her footsteps come after him.

“Wait, Geralt!” She called. She grabbed him again and his amulet pulsed hard. He felt the magic shoot through his arms and he forcibly redirected it, willing it to the floor. How he did it was beyond him but when she pulled herself against him he fell against the wall of the hallway. The redirect had taken a large piece of his strength and he felt mildly ill.

“Come on, Geralt.” She said, her slight form pressing him into the wall. He let distress lace through the bond.

“There has to be a way we can reconcile.” She said, stroking at him. “Please, for old times’ sake.”

Geralt felt his head throbbing as she stood up and kissed him, her hands traveling down to his trousers. Her lips tasted of wine and sausage. He moved to push her off but she clung to him like a cat. She fondled at his flaccidity and he gasped, his mutations keying up. She took it as an invitation and her tongue invaded his mouth. His hands moved automatically to try and dislodge her.

He remembered then what he had wanted to do in the first place. His mind became steel and he grunted. He leaned in despite his head throbbing, and with a quick movement he harshly bit her tongue. She attempted to pull away, a scream ripping into his mouth. Geralt nearly threw her as she grabbed him painfully through his trousers trying to dislodge herself. His balls were in agony as the scream tapered into a moan as the venom began to do its work. Loud running footsteps echoed down the marble hallway.

“He’s over here!” Geralt moaned, the feeling of sick racing through him as her hands finally released his testes. He turned and spit what he could back into Fringilla’s still open mouth allowing the wound on her tongue to heal. Panic came in from Regis’ side of the bond, still muted.

“Get off him, bitch.” Eskel had come around the corner, his sword drawn. She bounced back from Geralt and roared. The glow of fire magic raced to her fingertips as she cursed at the witchers.

“Look out!” What he saw next he didn’t quite understand through the haze of ill feelings and pain. Fringilla began blasting Eskel with her magic. Fire raced along the hallway in bright balls. Eskel didn’t flinch. The second the fireballs reached him he began to dance. He spun catching them, magic pulsing throughout the room sending Geralt’s amulet into a frenzy. With a yell Eskel began to shoot the fireballs back, increasing their heat several fold by calling on Igni. When Fringilla attempted again this time with a stronger pulse Eskel made several signs in succession. Geralt watched as magic pulsed from out of the witcher’s fingertips in a way he never imagined was possible. Fringilla yelled and redirected the strong pulse of magic into the walls. An explosion rocketed the hallway. Lambert and Letho had put up a combined Quen that kept the bulk of the heat off of them as fire raced around them. Geralt threw up. His head was pulsing with so many things right now, his body was in agony, and the kiss poisoned his mind.

“Eskel!” Geralt groaned. The fire cleared and Eskel stood a strong Quen surrounding him. Fringilla was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck, he puked all over the place.” Lambert said, releasing the Quen. Geralt felt the magical pressure on his mind ease as Letho lifted him up.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” Letho growled. “You and that vamp are supposed to be together. Why the hell were you sucking face with that sorceress?”

Lambert tugged something out of his armor and pressed his chest to Geralt’s. A wave of clean energy washed over him from the pendant that Lambert was holding. Geralt looked to the glowing amulet. It had to be something Keira had made. Geralt blinked as they fussed over him for a moment, and Eskel paced down the hallway trying doors, most of which were locked.

Eskel finally had some luck and opened a door to what looked like a sitting room. He darted inside, motioning the witchers into the dark room.

“Wait, you are with that vampire?” Lambert blinked, tucking the amulet back under his armor. “I mean I know we joked about it, but…”

“Shut your trap, Lambert, and shut the door.”

The door closed and darkness enveloped the witchers. Letho made the Igni sign and the torches and candles throughout the room lit up. The second they did Lambert and Eskel closed the space between Geralt. Geralt felt himself drop his guard, melting into their touches..

“Fuck, you’re always needy Geralt.” Lambert hissed as he pushed his body into Geralt’s. Geralt groaned and felt his mutations key up in a familiar way. When Eskel approached and put his callused hand on Geralt’s face he groaned into the touch.

“You are being awfully handsy on a vampire’s mate.” Letho brows were drown up as he was looking at the wolf witchers with hesitation.

“Second time he has said that.” Eskel said. “Explain.”

Geralt collapsed downwards into a nearby chair, his head throbbing.

“Regis and I, we are a mated bonded pair.” Geralt hissed as Eskel wound his hands around Geralt’s shoulders and began to soothe the tension out of the muscles.

“And when did this happen?!” Lambert practically yelled. “And why didn’t you tell us?!”

“Officially in Dillingen, unofficially, years before that.” Geralt said. Lambert kneeled by his chair, and Geralt reached down to cup the man’s cheek. When Lambert nuzzled into his hand Geralt felt himself calm as he realized that the pecking order was still the same.

“Ok, this is weirding me out.” Letho said, curiosity burning behind the statement.

“What?” All three wolf witchers asked in unison.

“The way you are touching each other.” Letho said, heat flushing his cheeks.

“Did you not touch one another at the viper school?” Eskel asked, his expression genuinely curious. Letho shook his head.

“What about when you wintered? How did you handle that?” Lambert asked, easing himself to sitting at Geralt’s feet.

“We would come home and rest, and little else.” Letho grumbled. Geralt could see the war going on in Letho’s mind as his eyes caught the torchlight.

“Would you like to?” Eskel asked, looking at Geralt who nodded, and then at Lambert, who snorted indifference.

Letho froze his eyes wide. He bit his lip.

Geralt felt Regis probe his mind through the bond. Geralt sighed.

_The wolves have me,_ Geralt spoke through the bond, sending Regis the feeling of Eskel’s warm hands on his shoulders and the radiating heat from Lambert at his heel. _Open back up Regis… please.”_

_“I can’t right yet._ Regis spoke, his voice strained and wavering. _To say I have momentarily lost myself is an understatement. Fringilla is currently here and Yennefer and her got into a spat. I bit her and drained her, not fully, but enough that she passed out. Yennefer currently has her in stasis while she figures out why the dimeritium bonds didn’t work. We may owe Damien a new desk and a new office, and I am honestly quite past drunk at the moment, and Morvran has gotten me a cloth for my eyes._

There was hesitation in the bond, and shame raced through before Regis could shut it off.

_You purged again didn’t you?_ Geralt asked, concern racing through the bond.

_And again just now._ Regis spoke, his internal monologue strained. _She is foul Geralt._

_She attacked Eskel, portalled away when she realized she was rebuffed._ Geralt hissed, letting his surprise and the memory play out in his mind’s eye.

_I will relay this to the others, I am going to block the bond._ Regis sighed, his mind relaxing as someone had brought him water. _The wolves have you?_

_Yes._ Geralt said, feeling suddenly nervous. 

_I trust you are in capable hands._ Regis sighed, relaxing fully. _I will find you when I am recovered._

Geralt snapped back to reality. The conversation in his mind had happened over the course of several seconds. Letho’s fingers flexed minutely, drawing Geralt’s eyes to them. He licked his lips at the hesitation from the larger witcher. Eskel felt him shift.

“White Wolf, what do you want us to do?” Eskel breathed, leaning down to Geralt’s ear.

“Where is Berengar?” Geralt asked and Letho flinched.

“He’s sleeping, long couple a days.” Geralt watched as Letho shifted and his smell changed. Geralt caught it as Letho blinked, shook his head minutely, and then sighed.

“You two are together?” Eskel said, grinning Letho cringed.

“That obvious?” He drawled, his large hand rubbing over his head. “I don’t want to wreck what we have.”

“You won’t.” Lambert said. “We aren’t at Kaer Morhen. And truth be told Berengar has to be practically jizzing himself for contact as well.”

Letho frowned. Geralt shifted slightly allowing his pupils to dilate, Lambert looked up at him from his position on the floor and handed him a potion. Swallow. Geralt took it and let the bitter liquid coat his throat. Behind him Eskel growled, his hands tensing on Geralt’s shoulders.

“He mentioned something to me about a tradition, one that was mandatory for him to participate in if he were to take to the path again.” Letho said, licking his lips. “Didn’t go into details, said with the wolf school in ruins wouldn’t be likely to be needed again any time soon, but he did warn me.”

“This will not be as intense, it won’t even be what you are likely thinking, thanks to Geralt’s easy to key up nature.” Eskel said, his growl pointedly aimed at Geralt. Geralt shifted again.

“Not my fault this time… totally.” Geralt grumbled. “Regis said we are in a period of rut. Hell if I know what that means other than I more or less want to plough anything and everything at the moment.”

Lambert cringed and reached into the bag at his belt. He handed Geralt a small tablet.

“You just fucking barfed all over the place.” Lambert said as Geralt took the tablet. “Keira makes these for me, they are like mint bombs, have one.”

Geralt popped it without hesitation and began to chew. The bitter taste flooded from his mouth, replaced with a strong minty oil, caused his tongue to tingle.

“Let’s get to the floor, against that wall without anything.” Eskel suggested, releasing Geralt’s shoulders. “Letho, sit and lean against that wall.”

Letho blinked and did as he was told. He removed his belts and baldrics and set them aside, his large form bending down with a grace that was well hidden. When he was settled against the wall Eskel stood out from behind Geralt’s chair and approached the larger man on the floor doing the same with his own swords. Geralt stood and did the same, only he lowered himself against the wall and leaned into Letho’s shoulder; the man tensed when Geralt’s weight settled against him. Eskel sat down on Letho’s opposite side and leaned against the man as well.

“And now for the cherry.” Lambert said, grinning, stripping his belt and baldric off in a smooth motion. He approached the trio with a swagger in his walk and Letho blinked up at him. He sat down, then scooted between Letho’s legs in a practiced movement.

  
“This is… weird.” Letho said, his voice vibrating through all of them as Lambert settled with his back against the big witcher’s chest.

“We are weird as fuck, Letho.” Lambert quipped and snuggled into the big witcher’s chest. “All of us, including yourself.”

“The key to doing this right is to just relax.” Eskel said. “And I mean relax. As witchers we are trained to guard everything. Guard ourselves, our mental states, guard our words, our voices, our reactions. When we used to do this with Vesemir he would constantly scold us when we weren’t being forthright. So let your body relax, Letho. Breathe through your belly.”

Letho did as was told and closed his eyes, willing his taught body to relax. He breathed in a few times experimentally. Geralt pushed himself against the larger man’s arm and rested his head on his shoulder. When he felt Letho tense again he shifted himself and brought the larger man’s arm around his side, settling down so that his shoulder was also rubbing Lambert’s. Despite the swallow he was still feeling exhausted.

When Letho finally relaxed and let off a shaky sigh, Eskel began. “Now that we are settled, somewhat….” Eskel said, peering over the larger witcher’s shoulder to Geralt. “What did he mean by ‘with the vampire’?”

Geralt sighed and craned his head to look over Letho’s chest.

“Like I said, we are a mated bonded pair.” Geralt grunted. “I haven’t really gotten to fill you guys in on what happened in Beauclair the first time around...”

Geralt told the story of the Hanza, as it related to him and Regis, then he told them about his struggles with the beast of Beauclair, and of Regis’ return. As he did he felt the tell-tale signs of needing to cry rip through him. As he spoke and the words came and he became more distressed Letho’s arm tightened around him and Lambert’s hand had found his shin.

When he got to the point of his nightmares he paused, collecting himself.

“You guys need to know something, beyond all I have told you.” Geralt turned and regarded the other witchers, whose eyes were all on him.

“At this point, nothing would surprise me.” Lambert snorted offhandedly.

“This will though.” Geralt sighed and pulled himself away from his warm spot against Letho’s side to face the three.

“What do you remember about my second set of trials, Eskel?” Geralt asked, sitting on his knees with his hands on his thighs.

“Not much to be honest.” Eskel spat bitterly. “They wouldn’t allow me down to watch. I do remember the other witchers filing past me looking haunted, and then when I saw you Vesemir was holding you, you had changed. You went down there with fiery red hair and when you came back up it had been bleached white. My first thought was the fact that you would be pissed because that little scruff you had been trying so hard to grow on your upper lip was so pale now you could hardly see it.”

Geralt chuckled softly as Lambert’s eyes lit up like a cat’s. 

“Then I noticed Vesemir.” Soberness had filtered through his voice. “He was bleeding through bandages as he hefted you to our room. Iongram stumbled up after him, admonishing him for taking you from the lab, but the elf collapsed and blood poured out of his nose and mouth. I had never seen Vesemir look so angry as he did then regarding the elf.”

“ ‘We have what we need now, and he will need to recover.’ ” Eskel mimicked Vesemir’s voice. “ ‘You must trust me that he will recover faster amongst his peers. I promise you will be able to poke and prod him soon enough.’ ”

Geralt winced. He did indeed get poked and prodded after the fact.

“What do you remember of the night we found Kaer Morhen sacked?” Geralt spoke softly, his head bowed.

“What do you remember?!” Eskel wrenched his body away from Letho and sat up straight. “You told me after you came to that you remembered nothing. You told Vesemir you remembered nothing!”

“I remember everything.” Geralt withdrew into himself. “I lied to you and him. I was afraid, I didn’t understand what happened. With all the loss of life already, I didn’t want to put my name on that list of martyrs.”

“What happened?” Lambert asked, sitting up. A low warning growl issued from Eskel’s throat.

“Oh no… no nono.” Lambert snapped, pulling himself away from Letho and facing Eskel bitterly. “You will not pull the Vesemir card on me now. That time has long passed. What the hell happened, Wolf?”

“You will still your tongue, Lambert!” Eskel barked.

“I think you guys may wanna hear this.” Letho rumbled, sitting up from the wall and regarding Geralt. “Stop nipping at each other and listen.”

“It was the first time my mutations manifested.” Geralt said softly, looking to Eskel who looked for all the world like he had a wound ripped open. “Me and Eskel were the first to get to Kaer Morhen. When I saw what they had done to the children, I broke inside. A dam that had been built to keep this part of me from myself broke, and I went after them. I hunted the humans that night, while a blizzard from Iongram flooded the mountains with thick snow. I used it, darted in and out of the cold fog. At first I just tore them asunder. I had gained claws, sharp as steel and just as strong. Then when I realized that their blood staining the snow was not enough I began to… eat them.”

Eskel looked away ,wincing with hurt, and Lambert and Letho looked back at him with large eyes.

“It was the first time it had happened.” Geralt said numbly. “I found the mage that had orchestrated the whole thing, and I killed him slowly, painfully. I ate his heart when I knew it would finally give out, then I started in on the other areas. When Eskel found me I was sitting on a pile of body parts, eating the man’s innards. It’s why I am called the White Wolf. Though the people that it happened to or witnessed it are long dead, the name stuck.”

The room was silent, three sets of heartbeats hammering at a rapid pace nearly in unison; Geralt’s own heart calm and steady.

“You… ate him?” Lambert asked dumbly.

“Why….” Eskel’s voice was soft and his head. “Why did you do it, Geralt? I never got to ask because you said you didn’t remember.”

“The thing that is inside me, the one that I gained by the second set of mutations, it drives me to hunt, and to kill, and to feast.” Geralt sighed somberly. “Shortly after that point I began having dreams. Nightmares really. They would reoccur for a time, then leave me be. Every so often I would get so wound up that ‘The White Wolf’ would come out. One of those times was with the djinn, Dandelion, and Yennefer. Other times it was on random contracts. Sometimes years would pass before I would get worked up again. However, after Ciri was taken, after Thanedd it got so much worse.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Eskel said, his eyes narrowing. “Why did you eat them?”

“I needed to.” Geralt said, his brows furrowing upward. “I don’t know how to explain it other then I needed to. Like we need air, food, rest, and water, I needed to eat them. I have been staving off the need to go after people for years by hunting and ingesting food raw whenever I get it. I hadn’t had anything from a human since the attack at Kaer Morhen, since I found a discreet way to feed that beast inside me. But that’s changed, because the circumstances have changed.”

Geralt held his wrist out and showed them a long thin, just about un-noticeable scar across both wrists.

“See this? It’s a scar, a scar that I gained when something was inserted into me to control my mutations.” The witchers leaned forwards looking at the narrow area. “It’s something I was unaware of till recently. Something that in all my years I had never noticed, and because of that I am not sure how many are still left. I lost the first one I was aware of when the bruxa bit me in the Duchess’ tower. The powers began to manifest in earnest then. When I got back and my bite was infected, Regis had to clean it out. It was on this side of my neck. It apparently fell out while he was scraping the wound. It was the marble he handed to you guys during your talk.”

“I lost two more in Dillingen in rapid succession.” Geralt said, his cheeks heating and his fingers twisting the ring harshly on his finger. “Regis figured out what they were: runes, to control a vampire.”

Geralt looked at the witchers as they regarded him with wide eyes. Lambert burst out laughing, his hands on his knees and his head practically in his lap.

“Good god, Geralt, you have gotten good at telling stories!” Lambert said, wiping tears from his eyes. Eskel shifted nervously, and Letho punched Lambert on the back choking the man with the force of the impact.

“He is serious, you idiot.” Letho growled, watching Geralt. “I can smell it on him, clear as day. When I first met him, he smelled like a swamp, sure, but under all that ass and sour sweat was a witcher. Same smells, same reactions as anyone else. But now…”

Geralt craned his neck up and allowed himself to scent the air. All three witchers took in deep breaths. All three looked back at him with eyes blown wide. Hunger ripped through Geralt again, suddenly causing him to lower his head and look at Lambert, trapping him with his eyes. A voice that was his, yet not took over, pushed him towards the younger witcher.

“Do you want me to show you?” Geralt asked as a pulse of arousal drifted through the bond from Regis.

_Take what you can from them, gorge, I will take from you later to recover._ Geralt could feel a wicked laugh floating through the bond.

_Next time we are face to face I need to discuss boundaries with you._ Geralt felt his mutations beginning to key up. _I feel like this is cheating on you, feel like I am betraying you. I want these men, and I know you can feel it, feel it in my bones. Just like you wanted Yennefer, and I knew it._

There was a beat, then laughter filtered through the bond.

_Yes, we need to have a discussion about it I agree, but I knew the second the bond was half formed how you worked, and you now know how I work. Did you disagree with my taking of Yennefer?_

Geralt thought about it for a moment.

_Not as much as I would have thought. Enjoyed it even, but only in the context of you._

_And it’s there you have your answer Geralt._ Regis purred through the bond and opened it up fully, letting his arousal crash into Geralt like a wall.

Geralt lurched forward and groaned, his eyes not leaving Lambert’s as Regis pulsed his approval. Having the bond back open eased Geralt’s mind.

“I…. uh.” Lambert licked his lips and Geralt followed the movement, fiddling with his ring, drawing his eyes up to Eskel.

“Do you want me to show you, do you want to experience it?” Geralt breathed, his arousal cascading through the room like a miasma.

“I think we already are.” Eskel groaned. “Get him first, I wanna see what you are going to do before I make the call for myself.”

“Why me?!” Lambert asked, panic in his voice. “Keira will…”

“Keira understands us as witchers, and soon she will understand what I am, and what that means.” Geralt spoke, his eyes locking onto Eskel again. “Besides you gave her the Kaer Morhen speech right?”

“Y…yeah?” Lambert stuttered. Geralt looked to Letho who’s breath had been coming in gasps, his fist closed so tightly his nails were drawing blood. The smell was intoxicating to Geralt. He took off the ring and the familiar power stole over him.

“Let me see your hand, Letho.” Geralt husked, grabbing the larger man’s hand and opening the fingers. Blood flowed from the divots in his palm.

“So temping.” Geralt hummed, sniffing the blood and letting its unique smell roll through him. “You smell like the mountains, like a fresh mountain spring.”

A single droplet fell to the floor. Geralt eyed it and Letho’s hand began to shake. Geralt looked up to the big witcher’s eyes, dilated, his smell, aroused. He was rough looking, unique, and powerful, scarred. And his eyes, beautiful… glowing. Geralt felt all the witchers’ eyes on him as his tongue darted out of his mouth. He traced a long languid line across the large hand, gathering up the blood that had pooled on his palm.

He had thought that Yennefer tasted of ambrosia, but this? This was electric. Geralt groaned as he swallowed, letting the small taste slide down his throat; the vampiric changes over come him. He tasted blade oil, sweat, salt, and another witcher, and hastily attempted soap, which did nothing to hide anything. Geralt licked at the wounds and Letho groaned. When Geralt pulled off and opened his eyes there was a gasp. Geralt let Letho’s palm down, the cuts healing quickly. Letho brought his hand to his chest and looked at it in wonder as the wounds disappeared before his eyes.

“Your eyes…” Eskel hissed. “Your eyes have changed, your teeth, and your nails. You look like you did back then.”

“But so much more so in control this time.” Geralt said, standing momentarily over the witchers on the floor. He quickly stole over to his baldric and belt and grabbed a vial of oil from it, then looked at it.

“Last chance, you can back out.” Geralt said, regarding the three on the floor who hadn’t moved a muscle. He took his tunic off and kicked off his boots. Eskel and Letho stole a look, and Lambert was trembling between Letho’s knees. A tell tale stain had had begun near the youngest witcher’s hip. Geralt curled his lip and pulled air across that spot across his nose and he could smell it. All three were his.

He turned his hips and looked at Lambert. He would be the first of the witchers. He looked so much like he did the first time they had included him in the winter greeting. Hands flexing, expression unsure, straining against his pants. Geralt was hard, had been hard, and leaking for some time. He stroked the front of his trousers stopping his hands at the damp that had leaked forward. He growled low in his throat.

When he slid off his pants Letho attempted to look away. His eyes screwed shut as Geralt exposed himself. In a flash Geralt was over at Letho, pulling his chin up. All three witchers jumped at the speed.

“You will watch.” Geralt purred. “You need this more than anyone here, you have been touched starved.”

Letho groaned.

“Berengar’s hands feel like fire to you, don’t they?” Geralt asked, tracing his hand along the thick corded neck as Letho lifted his chin. “That’s what attracted you to him. He touched you, he allowed you to touch him. He was lost before you, Letho. You brought him back.”

Geralt kissed the big man tenderly. Letho actually whined, his usually deep voice hitting a keening note Geralt had never heard from him before. Geralt smiled and pulled away. He ran his fingers along the larger man’s jaw.

“Not sure if I did anything other than lead him here.” Letho sighed.

“It’s ok, he will figure it out.” Geralt said softly and then in the blink of an eye kneeled down in front of Lambert. He looked the younger witcher in the eyes, and Geralt smiled as the mask the younger witcher seemed to always have in place slipped. It was a rare moment of vulnerability.

“We always made you wait, wait till the last.” Geralt said, approaching Lambert. Lambert blinked and scooted backwards till he met the solid wall of Letho’s chest. “You have always wanted to be first. But every time we denied you, made you wait. Let you sit till you were practically sobbing.”

Lambert attempted to push against Letho his eyes wide and his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“But today you were offered as a sacrifice, because one above you decided through fear that he would allow you to go first.” Geralt sneered at Eskel as Eskel’s cheeks colored. Lambert looked over to the scarred witcher and blinked.

Geralt leaned into Lambert and nipped at his neck and jaw, his hand palming him through his trousers. Lambert cried out, his hips pressing into Geralt’s palm.

“You know what that means, don’t you?” Geralt purred into the younger witcher’s ear, licking and biting at the lobe. “You can do with him what you will and until you step back he is yours.”

“Fuck… yes… gods, Geralt!” Lambert arched his back against Letho’s chest, the larger witcher put his hands on Lambert’s shoulders to seat him in place.  Eskel glared daggers at Geralt as Geralt pointedly tongued the end of his fangs.

“But for now you are mine, and you are first.” Geralt surged forward and kissed Lambert. The younger witcher crushed his mouth to his with enthusiasm. Geralt pulled the knot at the young witcher’s trousers and freed his cock from its confines. Lambert hissed and pulled back. Geralt growled as the taste of blood flooded his mouth.

“Teeth… sharp.” Lambert hitched as Geralt spat into his hand. He knew the second he started that Lambert wouldn’t last long. The younger witcher was always oversensitive and on the edge. He pulled his callused hand along the length of his cock and Lambert keened.

It took less then half a minute to work him up.

“Geralt it’s too much!” Lambert cried out his body shaking. “I am… I am…”

Geralt surged forward, instinct guiding himself to the vein in Lambert’s neck. He felt his fangs break through the skin and he drew, pumping a large dose of venom into younger witcher’s bloodstream. Lambert screamed in ecstasy, his eyes rolling back. His hips thrust upwards long ropy strands of cum spilling onto Geralt’s arm, and onto his straining cock.

_Draw deep love, he can take it._

Geralt drew, letting the liquid pull down his throat. The blood was exquisite and tasted so much like Lambert smelled, Geralt almost couldn’t pull away. Then something began. Something Geralt couldn’t place a finger on. Curiously Geralt prodded as a thread began to weave itself around Lambert. Like a bond, but not. Geralt didn’t have time to contemplate it further as Lambert was stuck in an overstimulated state. Cum was leaking from the overstimulated witcher as Geralt pulled. He finally popped off Lamberts’s neck and licked at the wound. A dark bruise surrounded it as it began to close and Lambert collapsed back onto Letho.

Geralt pulled back and had to sit for a second. He felt Lambert’s blood dripping down his beard and onto his chest. A new warmth connected him to the young witcher. He wanted to explore it further wanted to see what he could do with it. Geralt felt himself grinning as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean.

“What… the fuck… was that?” Lambert cursed and then moaned as a wave of euphoria passed over him.

“Venom.” Geralt said, finished with his fingers and eyeing Eskel. The other witcher twitched and reached over to touch Lambert but Geralt caught his hand.

 

“You forfeited this the moment you made him go first.” Geralt hissed, baring his fangs.

Eskel pulled back, falling on his rear, his eyes wide.

“How long?” Lambert heaved himself off Letho’s chest and groaned before reaching for his own cock and hissing. “It’s not going down.”

“Long enough.” Geralt purred cryptically, stroking Lambert’s cheek. “You have a choice, you can watch me with Letho, or you can touch Eskel; he is yours for the time being, I know you have always wanted that.”

“Geralt, this is not what I signed up for.” Eskel panted and looked at Lambert, a blush running through him from cheek to chest as the younger witcher got a gleam in his eyes.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Lambert barked, grabbing his wolf’s head amulet. Geralt grinned and grabbed his own, and Letho ,looking between the three, grabbed his as well. There was a violent pulse and all four amulets vibrated and heated. Eskel cried out as his reverberated. Letho groaned as his did as well.

“What just happened.” The larger witcher said as Lambert scrambled up to his feet and stepped out from between the larger witcher’s legs.

“All the amulets have been magically tuned, including yours it seems, to acknowledge a hierarchy.” Geralt said, grinning and letting his go. “Normally it’s just used to establish a chain of command, but in situations like this, when there is a need to sort who is where, the amulets can be called upon. In this case, I am the pack leader. Eskel forfeited his position by making Lambert go first into a dangerous situation. The amulet confirmed with a vote. We have far more monster in us than men. Each has their own way with dealing with dominance. You should have been taught all of this.”

“I… seem to remember somewhere being told this.” Letho grumbled, eyes widening. Geralt chanced a look behind him and Lambert had stripped off his clothing. Scars littered across his frame and his cock stood proud and dripping.

“Finally.” Lambert sneered, approaching Eskel who looked up at him balefully. “Strip bitch.”

Geralt felt himself grinning and turned to look back to Letho.

“You are new to this, to us.” Geralt purred. “Clothes on or off?”

“What if I say no?” Letho said, swallowing thickly but his hands already working at the clasps on his armor.

“Then I will stop.” Geralt said, a brow raising. “Those two have been doing this for as long as Lambert has participated, Eskel wants this just as bad as Lambert does, I can smell it, I can hear it in his heartbeat.”

“I told him one day he would slip.” Lambert said, lazily stroking his cock as Eskel fought with his gambeson and armor. “Said I would be there when he did, and oh man revenge is going to be sweet.”

Letho pulled his shoulder armor over his head and discarded the armored patchwork jerkin and gray undershirt. Geralt decided to help speed the process and unlatched the metal armored boots that Letho wore and pulled that and a set of finely knit wool socks off the larger witcher’s feet. It was obvious the man had just bathed; his skin was clean and his armor still smelled fresh. Geralt grinned and undid the clasps and ties of his thigh armor. Letho groaned and stiffened, his hands finding the floor as Geralt tossed the armor aside.

He then crawled up between the larger witcher’s thighs. Letho was panting, his whole body stiff, his face flushed. Geralt started nipping from the larger witcher’s chest to his neck, running his tongue over the acid burned surface that covered the whole of the larger witcher’s shoulders and chest. Geralt pulled away and traced his fingers along the scars, and traced them downwards, finally ending at the leather cup and trousers that still covered Letho. He untied the leather lacing and Letho surged forwards. Geralt grunted and pressed against his chest with a clawed hand. Letho attempted to move again but couldn’t; his eyes got wide.

“Best not to move when these sharp things are near your groin.” Geralt grinned, tracing the claws down Letho’s chest. That did it finally. The large witcher sat back with a huff, and finally the smallest bit of color graced his cheeks as he began to lose hold of his mutations.

He undid the laces and pulled at Letho’s pants. Letho shifted his hips and allowed Geralt to pull him free. When Geralt discarded the pants he looked at the bald witcher for the first time, taking him in sans armor. His body was littered with scars, but most were not monster scars. There were a few here and there, but a good majority of them were either burns or from steel. Letho’s cock twitched and Geralt fully took in its impressive girth.

He wrapped his hands around it and smiled as Letho bucked his hips up, but then immediately frowned as Letho’s hands were balled into fists and on the floor, tension in his shoulders.

“Touch me, Letho.” Geralt said, working at the larger man’s cock slowly watching as the foreskin slowly rolled over the head of Letho’s cock, only to be pulled back by Geralt’s hand. The larger man groaned and tentatively reached for Geralt’s face. Geralt leaned into the touch and was surprised as the larger man pulled him in. The kiss was hesitant on Letho’s part, unsure. When Geralt shifted himself to straddle Letho’s legs and brought their cocks into contact the other man surged forwards. Geralt explored the man’s mouth with his tongue as Letho’s hands roamed around his body, hesitant at first, then finding confidence as Geralt ground his hips downward.

Geralt pulled away and leaned over reaching for the oil he had collected Letho’s hands never leaving him. Letho was biting his lip masking his sounds as his tan hands explored Geralt eventually tracing up to the white haired witcher’s neck. Geralt groaned as he allowed the touches.

“Berengar is the only one that’s ever let me touch him this way outside of a whore house.” Letho panted his eyes dilated and glowing. “And the kinda whore houses that normally cater to me are so few and far between it was a fools errand to seek ‘em out. When I first saw you, you were so beautiful to me. Angry, passionate, on edge. We were sent out by the Emperor originally to help you try to find Ciri and confront the Wild Hunt. Hind sight is twenty-twenty I suppose.”

Letho chuckled sadly, then gasped, his eyes going wide as Geralt poured a liberal dose of oil on his cock.

“Thought this was gonna be the other way around?!” Letho asked, eyes widening further when Geralt put some oil on his fingers and reached around himself. “No one’s let me fuck ‘em like this before.”

Eskel had finally gotten out of his clothes and had the perfect angle to watch Geralt prep himself. He moaned, stroking himself as Geralt coated his asshole with the oil. Lambert sneered and hissed.

“Yeah, guess where your cock isn’t going today buddy.” Lambert grabbed Eskel’s hair and forced his head to his cock. “Be a good boy and let’s put that mouth of yours to work.”

“You gonna be able to fit it?” Letho asked, completely earnestly. Geralt looked at him, his red eyes pulsing and he licked his lips.

“Without a shadow of a doubt.” Geralt husked pulling Letho into a sloppy kiss. Geralt pulled away once more and adjusted himself and grabbed the thickness of Letho’s now slick cock. He angled his hips and positioned himself. Geralt groaned as Letho stretched and filled him. Letho shuddered under him as Geralt lowered himself completely.

“Not too tight?” Geralt gasped as Letho’s cock twitched inside him and the larger man’s eyes rolled.

“Gods no…” Letho hissed licking his lips. “You?”

Geralt rolled his hips in response. Letho grabbed at him. Geralt wasn’t expecting Letho to be as thick as he was. Each time Geralt rolled his hips he could feel the larger man’s cock pressing up against his prostate. He started to leak worse as his speed began to increase, drawing out wanton noises from the larger witcher while Lambert grunted behind him and Eskel growled. Geralt was overwhelmed. His amulet pulsed and he cried out. Every roll of his hips brought him closer to the edge. He began holding his breath to try to ease the feeling of being overfull. Letho grinned.

“Now where would I be if as a witcher I couldn’t defend myself even in my most vulnerable moments?” Letho hissed, his muscles tightening. The hand that closed around Geralt’s throat was a surprise to the white haired witcher and his eyes flew wide. Geralt took a ragged breath, but he didn’t stop moving his hips.

He clawed at Letho’s hand as the larger witcher screwed his eyes shut and began to thrust up into Geralt with a speed the bordered on painful. Blood began pouring from Letho’s arm as his fingers tightened around Geralt’s throat. Geralt couldn’t breathe. A strange elation pulsed through him as both Lambert and Eskel came around to the opposite sides of Letho.

“Fuck, he is choking him.” Lambert said, practically draping himself over Letho and biting at the larger witcher’s neck. “And Geralt’s getting off on it, the sick fuck. Eskel, help him along.”

When he felt the other witcher’s hand wrap around his cock he became undone. He was only able to push a small amount of air through the hold. His hands racked at Letho’s arm and suddenly his back arched. The orgasm that raced through him was intense. Ropy cum flew from the tip of his cock with enough force that it got both Lambert and Letho in the faces. Letho let go and hissed and Geralt gasped. Anger lanced through him as he slammed his hips down onto Letho.

The smell of blood filled his nostrils now that he could breathe again.

“Big mistake, big guy.” Geralt seethed. He surged forwards and ripped at Letho’s neck, biting deep and tearing at the muscle. Letho screamed and he tried to wrench Geralt off. As soon as the venom pumped into him Geralt felt his hips jump and Letho’s grip slack. Letho roared and thrust his hips upwards. The large witcher came in a great rolling move. Geralt was surprised at the heat that filled him as another round of ambrosia hit his tongue.

_Yes… more Geralt…_

Geralt felt himself weave as the blood raced through him.

_I am getting drunk Regis, how much more?_

_His heart is stuttering, pull off._

Geralt pulled away and licked and sucked at the wound. Blood tickled down Letho’s neck and across the front of his chest. Letho rumbled a laugh stroking at Geralt’s head as Geralt cleaned the wound.

“Stupid of me I know, but I felt robbed of the fight we were to have at Loc Muinne.” Letho hissed and collapsed backwards. “Have a feeling it would have gone exactly like that, I would have looked like I won only for you to come and rend me to bits.”

“You are lucky, Letho.” Geralt pulsed his hips downwards, earning a choked cry from the witcher under him. “Had I not allowed that, you would be dead now.”

“Give me that oil, Geralt.” Lambert said. “Got one more to handle.”

Geralt handed over the bottle and extracted himself from Letho. The larger witcher hissed and Geralt groaned as cum began to leak down his thighs. Geralt paused as the same warm thread that connected him now to Lambert connected him to Letho. Geralt glanced to Letho who was running his hands through the trimmed hair around his dick. He narrowed his eyes and focused on the thread. He thought about Letho running his hand along the soft length and teasing at the foreskin. Geralt took a breath as Letho who wasn’t even looking at Geralt did exactly that.

He turned to Lambert who was coating his dick in oil. Geralt focused on Lambert’s thread and looked at Eskel who looked as put out as Geralt had ever seen the scarred faced witcher. He thought about what he wanted Lambert to do and the younger witcher sprang into action.

“Get down give me your ass, Eskel.” Eskel started his cheeks flaring red. When he raised his ass in the air Lambert grabbed his hips and dived in. Eskel moaned into the ministrations as Lambert rimmed his asshole.

“Fuck where did you learn to do that?!” Eskel hissed, his hands reaching to grab anything as he scrambled against Lambert’s mouth.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Lambert hissed.

Geralt watched in awe as the two went at it. Lambert was holding him firmly against his mouth and Eskel was arching his back beautifully. When Eskel finally made a low noise, and a large rope of precum pulsed out of him Lambert lifted the scarfaced witcher up from his mouth. He grinned as Eskel panted, looking back at Lambert with half lidded eyes.

“Ride me like the bitch you are, let me see your ass while you do it.” Eskel shifted himself as Geralt watched, his eyes not leaving the scared faced witcher’s body as he lined himself up and sighed as Lambert breached him. When he began to grind against Lambert Geralt felt his mouth watering. Eskel was making a show of it, of course, running his hands along his chest and pinching at his nipples. Letho had turned to watch too.

Geralt swayed as a sudden wash of ecstasy and blood drunkenness washed over him. In a blink he was over in front of Eskel, cradling his face.

“Not so bad now is it?” Geralt purred. He stroked Eskel’s cheek then kissed him. Geralt couldn’t help the wave of bittersweet nostalgia that washed through him when Eskel groaned and returned the kiss. His taste and smell was always like coming home. He bit at Eskel’s lip and jaw, causing the witcher to groan. He grabbed Eskel’s dick to work him over and let out a surprised gasp himself as Letho had snuck over and grabbed his ass.

“Whatever you pumped into me has me going again.” Letho said, kicking Geralt’s knees apart and sitting across Lambert’s legs. There was no hesitation this time; Letho grabbed him, wrapped his large arms around him and pushed in in one solid stroke. Geralt arched and called out. Gods, he loved to be used like this. Eskel grabbed Geralt’s arms and crushed his lips to his. When Geralt got his bearings again he grabbed at Eskel and began twisting his hand across the witcher’s sensitive cockhead. Letho had reached around to Geralt as well.

Geralt got to that state again where he was overstimulated. All four of them were reaching their peak. He was thrusting himself against Letho, leaning against Eskel, and he wasn’t sure who of the four were the loudest. Grunts, whines, cries, created din of pleasure. Geralt felt something cool swirl around his form and the brush of a presence. He called out as the form coalesced and Regis kneeled beside him. None of the other witchers had noticed the vampire had appeared.

“Make them cum, Geralt.” Geralt’s eyes widened as he sent a hard pulse down the threads and Lambert and Letho stiffened.

Letho crushed himself against Geralt and bit him hard, the action surprising Geralt and causing him to lose himself. Eskel thrust himself harshly against Lambert who had sat up and clawed bright red marks down the scared witcher’s chest. When at last Eskel called out, Regis hissed, and the witcher saw him.

“Now Geralt, one last one.”

Geralt barreled forward and bit through the flesh on Eskel’s neck, pulling once again deeply. Geralt lost himself to the pull. The blood filling him with warmth and his stomach finally distending outwards. Regis pulled him away and off the other witchers.

The witchers all cursed but were too tied up in each other’s limbs to get up. Geralt felt himself go limp and pliant in Regis’ arms.

“You Geralt, are mine, and mine alone.” Regis hissed, slamming Geralt up against the built in bookshelf. “They are but a snack, a pleasant aperitif, that you can partake in if you want, but I am the main course.”

Regis had freed his cock from its confines, clothes still on, and he trust into Geralt, holding his legs upwards. Geralt was so blood drunk that everything felt like it was on fire, but not enough. Regis’ claws dug into Geralt’s leg, drawing blood as he thrust hard enough to send the bookshelf into splinters, the witchers on the floor stunned into silence at the display of power.

All Geralt could think about coherently was how good this felt. The pain, the pleasure. When he looked to Regis, Regis had transformed. Geralt automatically mimicked him, his claws extending and his face changing only slightly. They were monsters, both of them. Geralt howled and Regis followed suit, their cries taking on that double tone. Geralt felt Regis was close and was dragging him with. Geralt exposed his neck in a sign of submission and Regis lurched forward.

Everything became silent in a moment of pure white bliss. Everything had ceased to exist except Geralt and Regis and their bodies pressing into one another. The pull against his neck released a pressure Geralt didn’t realize he was holding as pleasure raced through him. He spilled his seed again staining the front of Regis’ shirt. Regis had never drawn from him this deeply before and Geralt reveled in it. Regis thrust forward, spilling his cool seed into Geralt, filling him.

When Regis did finally pull away Geralt’s blood leaked from his mouth. He kissed the vampire, cleaning him off as he went and Regis growled.

“Holy shit.” Lambert had stood and was looking at the two as Regis dipped down and licked at the wound he had created in Geralt’s neck. Blood was now everywhere on Geralt. It had dripped and rolled off of him in a great flow. Regis’ claws had caught him to at some point. Geralt groaned as Regis shuttered, still sheathed within him.

“Ok, we have to clear this up now while he is in the damned room because otherwise I won’t believe it.” Letho said, standing and grabbing at his leathers. “What the fuck is going on with you, Geralt? Why the hell were you sucking face with that stupid sorceress in the hall way, and why the hell isn’t he tearing us limb from limb for more or less fucking you to pieces?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t even know what to say about this damned chapter. I wanted to write it and that’s that. It serves a purpose for later, but it was also super self indulgent. Whatever!
> 
> Finished on 11-25-18


	34. Misery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eskel reveals he knows more about Geralt's past then he has let on.
> 
> “I…” Regis reached out for Geralt as he turned. He opened up the bond fully and felt the distress, heartbreak, hopelessness, and betrayal hit him with enough force that he staggered. Geralt surged forwards and howled. The choked keening ate through Regis like acid, making his legs shake and finally give out. The dam had broken and Geralt keened as Regis lowered them both to the ground, great waves of sorrow flowing out of the man like a flood swallowing everything in its path. Regis gripped the witcher holding him, trying to protect him, as Geralt scrambled against him, trying to force away the pain made physical. Geralt shook and gasped for breath. The high-pitched wailing sob that forced its way from the witcher’s chest rended Regis’ heart and he broke as well. Years of emotion cascaded out of the both of them as their melancholic song seeped through the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!  
>  **  
> **  
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff
> 
> Also I live for your guy's comments. Lets me know folks are about!
> 
>  
> 
> **************  
> 
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**  
>  Angst  
> Whump  
> hurt/comfort  
> non-con Mind control  
> non-con hypnosis  
> non-con body control  
> Geralt's turn to break  
> Did I mention whump?
> 
> ****************

Regis’ face began to change back and he panted.

“First… I am now drunk to the point where I think if I move I am going to spill us both to the floor.” Regis grunted, causing Geralt to chuckle. “A little help would be appreciated.”

The other witchers scrambled, grabbing at their small clothes and pants and sliding them on.

“So you aren’t going to eat us?” Eskel asked, grabbing Geralt under one armpit while Lambert grabbed Geralt’s legs and lowered them to the floor. Letho steadied Regis from behind and then they both led Geralt and himself to chairs. Eskel handed Geralt his pants, small clothes and tunic.

“Contrary to what you may or may not think, everything that happened today happened for a reason, I am afraid.” Regis said, pulling away. “And before I get to lost in my own thoughts, I will give you the overview. Geralt is some sort of hybrid. At least that’s the theory. We won’t know until we search Kaer Morhen and attempt to find information about the second set of trials. We were here today specifically to attempt to gain control of Fringilla Vigo. The dimeritium bands that Yennefer enchanted didn’t work on her, so Geralt got roped into a spell. We are going to use the venom that you all had a taste of tonight to create a dependency in her so we can glean information about who is pulling the strings. Not my plan, but I have none better.”

“When we got here Yennefer cornered us, and we had an interesting… chat.” Geralt said, his words beginning to slur. “Seems as though Yennefer had been entrusted by Vesemir of all things to keep care of the records at Kaer Morhen.”

Geralt looked at all the witchers in the room. Letho was looking back at Geralt, his expression expecting, Lambert’s face was turning a brilliant shade of red as he bit at his lip, and Eskel, Eskel shied away from Geralt’s gaze. Geralt instantly sobered.

Geralt had him up against a wall in a chokehold in the blink of an eye. The other witchers cried out. And Regis stumbled across the room, calling his name. Geralt saw red.

“You fucking idiot, you knew!” Geralt seethed. “And how long have YOU known, huh? How long have you known that Yennefer had access to all of our records, _Yennefer_ who is currently LEADING the fucking Lodge!?”

Regis pulled Geralt off of Eskel and threw him to the floor with enough force that Geralt dropped out of his mutated state.

“Manners, Geralt.” Regis said, wavering slightly in place. “Put the damned ring back on.”

Geralt fished around the floor for the ring, but that didn’t stop Lambert from walking up and punching Eskel straight in the face while Regis’ back was turned. Eskel collapsed into a heap; one of the tight scars across his face had been split and was bleeding.

“ENOUGH!” It was Letho this time grabbing Lambert by his pants, the only thing he had on besides his amulet. “You three need to sort this shit out here and now. Without fists.”

Regis and Letho exchanged a look and nodded. Geralt found the ring and slipped it back on his finger. He felt his strength draining away from him as well as the ire.

“How long Eskel.” Geralt said, regarding the wounded and miserable looking witcher with harsh eyes.

“I was put in charge by Vesemir according to his will.” Eskel said, his voice shaking with emotion. “He had been training me for decades, readying me to take over. He hadn’t planned on dying.”

Lambert was seething and struggled against Letho, who had wrapped his arms around the youngest witcher to hold him in place.

“I’d arrived before you showed up with Uma.” Eskel said softly. “Yennefer was already there, and Vesemir told me she had taken the master’s oath. Were she to betray us, or our cause, or have any thought to, she would have been dead by now. He was supposed to leave me his amulet, but before it was cleansed in the fire, Ciri stole it. I was supposed to reunite the schools, what was left of them. There was a task I was appointed to do, one I still plan on doing that I cannot speak of right now. It requires his amulet. And it requires you. Without both I can’t finish what was started.”

Eskel looked at Geralt, the scarred faced witcher’s expression a mask of hurt, and his hands shaking.

“I was supposed to keep an eye on you, and I did for the most part,” Eskel said. “We traveled together till Kaer Morhen fell…”

“And then you got so afraid of me after that point that you refused to travel with me.” Geralt growled, old wounds reopening like Eskel’s scar. Looking down he clenched his fists. “I remember, Eskel.”

“I am done with secrets.” Regis frowned, looking to Geralt. “Call to him, I will do the rest.”

“Call to what?” Geralt asked dumbly.

 _You have a connection to the men in this room now, a permanent one. Open him up to me._ Regis seethed over the bond.

Geralt looked at Eskel, whose eyes widened, with a determined expression.

“Sorry, friend.” Geralt said and then plucked the thread in his mind. Eskel’s eyes glassed over.

“Fucking no, no more fucking vampire magic, no more!” Lambert seethed, struggling hard enough to throw Letho off balance. Geralt looked at him and caught his thread as well.

“Sit down Lambert, stop this.” Geralt hissed, pulling himself up to standing.

Letho let him go and Lambert flopped into a chair and rubbed at his head. Regis looked at the younger witcher before leaning down and looking at Eskel. Geralt knew what was coming. Regis’ power rushed into the room making it seem much smaller and more cramped than it already was. Letho balked and looked at Geralt and then back to the vampire. He too took a seat, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Guessing at this point there is nothing I can do to fight this, is there?” Letho asked, looking at Geralt with an awed expression.

“Not when I have no idea how the hell I did it in the first place, no.” Geralt groused as he felt his hold on the tether ease as Regis gained control.

“Eskel, look at me, You will tell me what you know about Geralt and his mutations, and what the task was that was left to you.” Regis’s voice booked no argument as he , placed his fingers under Eskel’s chin.

“I have to start with this.” Eskel said, his voice breathless and far away. “I never meant to hurt you Geralt, or you Lambert. Vesemir placed a lot on my plate simply because I got into less trouble than the two of you did. He thought I was responsible, thought I could shoulder the burden. I never told him, even after I took the master’s oath, that I was scared shitless, that I was insecure. I didn’t want to disappoint him, I wanted to do everything in my power to gain approval from him. I was his child surprise, as were you Geralt, and you Lambert. We are brothers in more senses than most people realize. I am sorry.”

Geralt felt a lump in his throat as he regarded the scarred faced witcher’s glassy eyes.

“Speak, Eskel.” Regis commanded, running his hands down the witcher’s neck. The power pulsed anew.

“Geralt is a weapon.” Eskel breathed. “He was chosen for his magical ability, which would have been beyond my own if he had applied himself half as much as I did. When we went through the first trial, he was the first to awaken, the first to recover. The nine before him for the second trial were nothing but experiments to make sure they had the process down. They knew there would be no survivors. The ingredients are unknown to me. Vesemir had them locked away in a place only he could access with his amulet. They are still locked away, and I was supposed to open the room for Yennefer so we could decide how to proceed to unlock his powers. The idea behind them is that exposure over time would reduce the risk of rejection, so he was outfitted with special runes that would block the magic that was inherent to his mutations; to keep the powers at bay until the runes could be taken out one by one, allowing for a gradual exposure to the power he holds.”

“A weapon, what sort of weapon?” Regis asked, looking to Geralt who was staring at Eskel with wide eyes.

“He is supposed to be a weapon against vampires, the Hunt, and any other sort of mystical creature.” Eskel said.

Regis balked.

“How long was this exposure supposed to last?” Regis asked, gleaning the question from Geralt.

“Centuries.” Eskel said. “Vesemir’s master lived all the way to the year 1150, when he was gutted by a slyzard, and it was speculated that witchers seem to be immortal unless felled by wounds. No witcher has ever died in their own bed. The creation of the witcher program was commissioned by the Nilfgaardian union, in 785, and then the efforts were redoubled in 830, when the Conclave of Mages was formed from elite members of the Brotherhood of Mages. It took nearly a century for them to determine what was the best practice for creating witchers; the selection of young children and the mutagenic trials themselves. When the program was handed over to Alzur and Cosimo, they took all of the information from the conclave with them, and subsequently they withdrew from the conclave and were considered renegades. Nilfgaard and the conclave both disavowed knowledge of the mages and their witcher program. All records were stricken. The only ones that remain that we are aware of are at Kaer Morhen under lock and key.”

Geralt felt his heart sinking as he listened.

“The witcher program was created for one purpose, to create beings that could effectively kill monsters.” Eskel continued. “The necrophages? Gryphons? Manticores? Dragons? All of them are not monsters, they can be felled by human hands. Humans simply think they are monsters because these creatures attack them, but the reality is that they are all just animals, trying to survive as best as they can. The witcher program started as a last resort to save humanity from the Hunt, from vampires, and from others that humans can not touch or fell. After centuries of preparation, and little to show for it, it was decided that the witcher program would come to an end. Rumors were started that the monster population was falling and that witchers were not needed anymore. The hope was humans would have taken over, started to defend themselves against the pests that plagued them. They didn’t. Instead they just let themselves be slaughtered, and the witchers were sentenced to a slow and starving death, as no one would pay their worth. This changed when contact between one Avallac’h, an Aen Elle, and a sage for the Wild Hunt, and one unknown other came to pass.”

“Iongram was brought forward to lead the magical arm of the witcher program and ramp it up once again. He was tasked to create the trial in which a living weapon would be made capable of fighting the ones mortals could not.” Eskel said. “Two were chosen to create a child that would be perfectly capable of taking on the extra mutations. The female was a druidess and the mistress of the Circle of Mayena named Visenna. The second was an unmatched warrior named Korin. When Visenna was saved by Korin, she notified Iongram of her choice, and was given an elixir that repaired all of the damage that magic had done to her reproductive system. She wooed Korin, magically, and became pregnant. When the pregnancy was confirmed by Iongram, another plan was put into place to enact the Law of Surprise. Vesemir was commissioned to save Korin. When that came to pass Vesemir invoked this law, and when Korin returned to Visenna she notified him she was pregnant, after he told her about the witcher that saved him without payment. Geralt was born several months later.”

Geralt felt like the walls were closing in on him. He didn’t remember his mother or his father. Regis couldn’t break the glamor and sent wave after wave of comfort to the witcher, who now sat cross legged on the floor.

“Fuck.” Letho said, observing Geralt.

“Korin was felled three years after Geralt’s birth.” Eskel continued. “He died of sepsis from a wound obtained after he was thrown from his horse. When he died, Visenna brought Geralt to Kaer Morhen to be trained as a witcher.”

“What happened to Visenna?” Regis asked, his voice soft.

“She took her vows and became a priestess of Melitele.” Eskel said, his voice soft and monotone. “She was killed defending the temple when the temple of Melitele at Ellander was sacked by Nilfgaard.”

Geralt felt his heart seize. He had been treated by the woman before. She was one of the many that had stayed at his bedside when he was recovering from the bite Foltest’s daughter had inflicted on him. He knew her by name, and thought her kind. He felt numbness starting to set in. She had fiery red hair like he had when he was young, the same fiery red he had donned in Dillingen. She was also covered head to toe in pale freckles. The only difference was their eyes. Hers were a beautiful clear jade green. Geralt’s had been hazel. He felt the numbness give way and his heart begin to shatter. He looked down at his feet and swallowed.

“What is the task you had set out to do Eskel?” Regis’ voice was shaking.

“I was to reunite all the remaining witcher of the different schools under Kaer Morhen’s roof.” Eskel said. “I was to assist Yennefer to start the witcher program back up, so we could defend ourselves once again. Yennefer was tasked alongside me to watch Geralt to make sure he was contained while we brought the schools together. Yennefer told Vesemir that she would not start the program back up unless she had the approval of every single last witcher left.”

Geralt’s eyes shot up and he met Regis’ gaze.

“Why didn’t you contact them?” Regis asked.

“Because I do not have Vesemir’s amulet.” Eskel said. “Ciri stole it. She has the key. Even Lambert’s message to try to get all the witchers here to Beauclair had to be forwarded by hers to the others.”

“Let him go, Regis.” Geralt choked, grabbing at his boots and baldric. He swung them on with shaky hands. Geralt felt the pressure leave the room and Eskel blinked.

“Geralt…” Eskel sobbed. “I am so sorry…”

Regis stood and regarded Eskel.

“That was a position you should have never been put in, friend.” Regis intoned sadly and shook his head.

“Come on Regis,” Geralt said, reaching for the door.

“We have much to discuss.” Regis said, regarding the three witchers in the room, all of whom sat with stricken expressions. “We will call for you when the time comes.”

“We will hold down the fort here.” Letho said, standing and holding out his hand to Regis. Regis clasped it.

“Thank you Letho.” Regis said, patting the large witcher’s hand. “And I have not forgotten about you.”

Letho nodded, and Regis let the witcher’s hand go. Geralt opened the door and pushed out into the ruined hallway. Guards had filed in, but none had dared to touch the door where the witchers were. Geralt pushed through them, and Regis followed.

Geralt felt betrayed on all fronts and he tried to keep from falling apart as they passed through the palace. Pain boiled through him in such waves that he thought he would collapse from it. The blood was still running through him, making him feel drunk. When they passed through the throng and into the palace proper Regis grabbed Geralt’s hand and squeezed it. Geralt choked back a sob as they walked, gripping onto Regis’ hand like a lifeline. People stopped and looked at the witcher and the vampire as they passed, whispers passing between them.

“I have secured us leave.” Regis said softly as they passed down the stairs. “We do not have to return here until you are ready.”

“Thank you, Regis.” Geralt choked.

“Geralt! I think I found the issue!” Geralt froze mid-step, his grip becoming painful on Regis’ hand.

Regis turned to Yennefer as she approached, trying to will her with his eyes to stop, but she came right up to them. Geralt turned his head.

“Someone modified the matrix, how I don’t know… but…” Yennefer stopped mid-sentence, her voice becoming soft. “What’s wrong?”

When Geralt turned to look at her, tears were in his eyes, pain etched into his features. The longer he looked, the more glassy his eyes became. Yennefer gasped and reached up. Geralt winced and choked, his eyes screwing shut. A tear escaped and he sobbed.

“Come let’s be free of this place.” Regis cooed, tugging Geralt forward, leaving Yennefer behind a stricken expression on her face.

Regis put an arm around the witcher and guided him as Geralt screwed his eyes shut, his breath coming in rigid gasps. Regis had to dull the bond to keep himself from falling into the emotional roil that was surrounding Geralt as they made their way to the stables. He grabbed Roach, and freed Vlad from the stable hand. Regis pulled himself up onto Roach, and grabbed Geralt, lifting him without effort and carefully deposited him on the saddle saddle in front of himself. He gripped onto the witcher tightly.

“Run like the wind, Roach. Follow Vlad.” He hissed. Both of the horses sprinted into action, swiftly taking them across the bridge and into Beauclair. They turned swiftly northwards and sped past the tourney grounds, the horses fleet footed. When they reached the woods surrounding the mill, Regis pulled off and brought them to a spot that was devoid of people and away from prying eyes. He put up a barrier and stopped Roach. Geralt slid off the saddle and Regis followed.

“Go home you two.” Regis said to the horses. “We will follow shortly.”

Both of the horses snorted and trotted off through the woods. Geralt was facing away from Regis, his fists clenched and his shoulders shaking.

“I…” Regis reached out for Geralt as he turned. He opened up the bond fully and felt the distress, heartbreak, hopelessness, and betrayal hit him with enough force that he staggered. Geralt surged forwards and howled. The choked keening ate through Regis like acid, making his legs shake and finally give out. The dam had broken and Geralt keened as Regis lowered them both to the ground, great waves of sorrow flowing out of the man like a flood swallowing everything in its path. Regis gripped the witcher holding him, trying to protect him, as Geralt scrambled against him, trying to force away the pain made physical. Geralt shook and gasped for breath. The high-pitched wailing sob that forced its way from the witcher’s chest rended Regis’ heart and he broke as well. Years of emotion cascaded out of the both of them as their melancholic song seeped through the woods.

Regis sat and rocked the witcher as his own sorrow made itself known, tears and snot soaking through his gambeson. Time ceased to exist as they rocked, seeking comfort in the only one they knew couldn’t betray them. The sun had begun to set when the cries stilled into shuttering breaths.

Geralt shifted and tried to wipe futilely at his face. Regis stilled him, cooing through his own choked breathing.

“Don’t worry about that.” Regis pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Geralt. Geralt wiped at his face, his body still shuddering and choking. Regis pulled out another kerchief and wiped at his face while Geralt blew his nose. Geralt made a noise of disgust as he wiped again in vain at his nose and eyes.

“I knew witchers could cry.” Regis said, the shake in his voice betraying his attempts to be light-hearted.

Geralt let off a choked laugh, then looked up to Regis. Geralt’s face was blotchy and red, his eyes swollen, snot had taken residence in his beard, and when his eyes met Regis’ they began to fill again. Regis grabbed the clasp of Geralt’s baldric and let the swords fall as Geralt began anew. Regis pulled him into his lap and cradled him, rocking him. Geralt startled when there was a ripping sound and Regis grunted. His world stilled again as great black furred wings enveloped them, closing them off from the world. He gripped onto Regis’ gambeson so tightly his fingers were cramping.

“They… They knew.” Geralt choked, finally finding words. “Eskel, Vesemir, they knew what I was… what I am… they didn’t tell me.”

Regis stroked Geralt’s hair and rested his lips on the top of the witchers head.

“They knew who my mother was, my father.” Geralt continued though gasps. “They knew my mother had died Regis, they knew! I thought I was raised in Kaer Morhen, I knew my mom was a sorceress, but not that she was the head of an order, and even further still she worked as a priestess of Melitele! Not even she told me who she was.

Geralt shifted and looked up to Regis, pain and hurt written across his face.

“Yennefer knew too!” Geralt seethed. “They were told to keep an eye on me! To watch me! You know what ‘watch’ means in the witcher’s world Regis? It means if I were to step out of line I was to be killed. They couldn’t risk me, a weapon, falling into the wrong hands, or getting it into my head that I was just a means to an end!”

“You are not, Geralt.” Regis choked.

“I was CREATED Regis.” Geralt sobbed. “Not born out of love, not even born out of rape. I was a freak from birth! They made me, and have controlled me from the first day I took breath. They took me, my mother abandoned me having no obligation outside of pleasing my father to keep me till the witchers came calling. When he died she just… tossed me away.”

“And then… and then Vesemir….” Geralt’s shaking voice took on a fevered pitch, his teeth chattering as they clenched together. “He raised me alongside Eskel. I remember now, remember words that when we were growing up seemed innocent enough. ‘Eskel watch him, keep him out of trouble. Keep him safe.’ He was protecting an investment. It was never the other way around. He treated us differently, making at raising us like sons, brothers, instead of the warriors we were supposed to be forged into. When I took a liking to Lambert, Vesemir only begrudgingly offered the same to him. Lambert, who in all of this is the most innocent, bucked against him constantly. He saw it Regis, he had to have. He always has.”

“Geralt, do not poison those in your mind just yet.” Regis choked, pulsing comfort through the bond and backing up his intent as the words flowed. “We have only just scratched the surface of the mystery that is you.”

“You know what threw a wrench into the works?” Geralt looked back up to Regis. “Ciri.”

“When Ciri showed up in our lives, Vesemir recalled me.” Geralt sat himself upright in Regis’ lap. “They kept me closer then, and when I wasn’t within eyesight of Vesemir, or Eskel, I was within striking distance of Yennefer or Triss. When the coup at Thanedd happened we got separated, all of us, and no one could get to me. Searching for Ciri was my only freedom! I bucked against them, I found you by accident, and when I died and came back they thought me actually dead. I was free to make a choice, and I made one, riding with the Wild Hunt in exchange for Yennefer’s life.”

“When I was dropped at their doorstep and my memories were gone… they…” Geralt shuddered again, his eyes becoming hard. “They didn’t tell me what I was looking for, they didn’t tell me about Ciri. They didn’t tell me about Yennefer. All of them. They let me live in ignorance. Kept me away from my one choice. I used to think it was Destiny that kept drawing me to Ciri, but it was freedom.”

“I thought Vesemir loved me in his own way, loved Ciri.” Geralt choked. “I am just a means to an end! And the worst part about all this? I was designed to kill you! They are going to try to make me kill you!”

“Shhhhh, Geralt.” Regis soothed, gripping the witcher to his chest once again and squeezing his wings around them. “You know they can’t make you do anything, especially in regards to me. What we share goes beyond simple genetics and crosses over into a realm that is impossible to study. They no more could force you to attempt to kill me than they could insist that a piece of bread turn into an apple.”

Geralt shuddered against Regis, again sniffing futilely. The sobs were no longer the earth rending tumult that had been earlier, they were quieter, more controlled.

“How do I stop?” Geralt asked miserably, wiping his face once again on the soiled and soaked through rag.

“You can’t, it just has to run its course.” Regis said, control slowly returning to his human form. They sat there for a while longer, Geralt’s sobs turning into juddering breaths.

“There is nothing I can say or do right at this moment that can make any sense of this situation, Geralt.” Regis said, stroking the witcher’s head. “Humans, for all my knowledge of them, baffle me more than I would care to admit. Normally I find it endearing. But this case…. This case is so gray. I am currently fighting with myself to keep myself planted here with you rather than go off to the palace to destroy those that wronged you. I know that everything isn’t always as it seems, so being irrational at this point would rather make me feel like Dettlaff, something I would like to avoid as I thought his reaction was childish and stupid at the time.”

“Hind sight is twenty-twenty.” Geralt sighed, a small broken chuckle finding its way out of his mouth.

“Indeed.” Regis said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor fucking broken Geralt. Poor fucking broken everyone at this point. One of the biggest parts I have had about the whole damned witcher series is this idea that witchers don’t cry. Everything fucking cries. EVERYTHING. There isn’t a species on the planet that is incapable of producing tears if it is warm blooded. The emotional part of it? You are damned skippy that the creatures who’s DNA they share can feel grief in their own animalistic ways. So there is no reason why they couldn’t cry other then the witchers that trained them saying they couldn’t. Imagine not crying in so long you actually forget how to trigger it. You suppress it. The more I write about the witcher universe the more WTF I get… anyway…
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	35. Exfiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Regis Recover, and Geralt returns to the palace to finish what he started.
> 
> "Regis flew outwards and spun back, his wings pillowing and his tail scooping at the air like a brake. They slowed and approached the gate. Geralt focused and snapped his fingers. Every single torch on the property went out at once. There was a resounding cry as Regis cleared the gate and whipped his wings forward, kicking up a cloud of dust thick enough that it actually choked Geralt. Regis sneezed as he hit the ground and Geralt tumbled off his back into the dirt in front of the estate house. Regis changed forms as soon as his feet hit the ground, stumbling forwards and falling onto his knees.
> 
> Geralt could hear choked cries and yells as they scrambled to re-light the torches. Geralt pulled himself upright and snapped his fingers again, letting the magic race from them. All the torches re-lit. Regis was still on his hands and knees, panting, two large rips showing pink flesh through his tunic and gambeson. The crowd stilled as Geralt waved away the dust from his mouth and it began to settle.
> 
> “Geralt?!” Barnabas-Basil stumbled through the dust."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***********
> 
> **  
> Hey! Small life update!**
> 
> **I moved! So I delayed the chapter for a week! Thanks for your patience! It's back on it's weekly schedule once again!  
> **
> 
> ***********
> 
> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!  
>  ****  
>   
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff
> 
>  
> 
> **************  
> 
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**
> 
> Big time Hurt comfort  
> spying  
> Barnabus knows fucking everything  
> Consensual mind control  
> Non-con mind control  
> Appologies
> 
> ****************

Geralt awoke with a start and looked around. Regis was still holding him. He was wrapped in the vampire’s warm wings. When he looked up he was surprised to see Regis’ face had retained human shape. He shook his head and grunted. He didn’t know how long he drifted off, but the light of the waxing moon filtered through the trees as he pulled himself unwillingly back to full consciousness. The day’s events rolled through him and caused him to take a shuddering breath. He didn’t want to relive it. Any of it. He snuggled closer into Regis’ chest as Regis sent waves of comfort and support over him. It was nice, warm, and for once in his life Geralt felt truly safe. He had never felt as vulnerable as he had this day. His feelings were still raw and harsh, and the force of his crying made every rib and muscle in his core ache.

Regis had been right, as always. As shitty as crying was, Geralt felt lighter, his mind filled with unknowns and still raw, was actually calm. The crazy circles he had been running around his psyche for years had calmed.

He shifted and rubbed at his eyes. They felt like he had been looking straight ahead into a sand storm. He grunted when he discovered the bristles of his newly growing beard were stiff with tears and dried snot. Regis looked down to him, his eyes catching the moonlight and reflecting it like a cat’s. The vampire’s eyes were swollen and he could see tear marks and a matted path through the vampire’s mutton chops where the tears had caught and dried. He felt his eyes start to water again at the sight and screwed them shut. Regis’ voice broke through his onset of melancholy.

“My friend here has informed me that the whole of the estate is in an uproar.” Regis stated, looking at a crow, who was bobbing and weaving nervously. “He said the second the horses came back without their riders people began to panic. They are putting together a search party.”

Geralt didn’t want to go back.

“How long have we been here?” Geralt groaned.

“Long enough that it’s time we returned.” Regis unfurled his wings. Geralt shuddered as they lifted, letting the chill night air into what was once a warm and cozy space. His stomach made a loud noise of protest as hunger raced through him. Regis’ fingers were twitching as he looked up through the trees. His whole body gave off a shudder.

“Are you going to be ok for now?” Regis asked, looking back down to Geralt.

“Think so.” Geralt said, pulling himself out of Regis’ grasp and standing unsteadily. Regis moaned and straightened out his legs. Geralt looked down at the vampire as he bent over and folded the wings down so that they more resembled fingers. He massaged his leg and hissed.

“What’s wrong?” Geralt asked as the vampire’s discomfort raced its way through him.

“Legs been asleep for hours.” Regis groaned, bending his knee and flexing his foot.

“Sorry…” Geralt sighed, looking away to the nearby trees.

“Pins and needles are a small price to pay for comfort, I would say.” Regis said, satisfied and wobbling up to standing with the support of his wings. “Now if you would excuse me, nature calls, and I drank more today than I have in ages.”

Geralt watched as Regis half walked, half ambled over to the trees before he realized how much pressure was on his own bladder. He turned the opposite direction and leaned against a tree, draining himself. A cool breeze raced through the woods causing him to shudder as he tucked himself away. Regis had turned back to the small clearing. Geralt grunted as he walked. Everything was sore, and the cold and stress had made his knee hurt something fierce.

“You know one of the things I used to do when I suffered from acute imbroglio was flying.” Regis said, looking at the stars. “I haven’t flown since Stygga.”

Geralt could see Regis’ hands twitching and his wings quivering.

“You could fly home, I could walk.” Geralt suggested, sidling up next to the vampire and setting a hand on his shoulder.

Regis turned to him with a gleam in his eye.

“Would you like to fly, Geralt?” Regis asked, turning to the witcher. Geralt blinked back surprise.

“I… don’t know how.” Geralt frowned. Regis laughed, mirth racing through the bond.

“I mean on me.” Regis chuckled.

Geralt felt excitement race through him as he dropped his hand.

“Can I?” Geralt asked, looking at Regis as his wings began to unfurl. “I won’t be too heavy?”

Regis scoffed.

“Of course not.” Regis’ giddy excitement flowed through the bond. “I can carry Roach with you on top of her if I was so inclined to do so, and a great distance I may add, at least I could at one point. Grab your swords, I’ll change.”

Geralt jogged to his baldric and grabbed it from the ground. The smell of rain enveloped him as he adjusted the swords on his back, and suddenly a very cold damp nose snuffled into his neck and hair. Geralt laughed as he turned and was met by a very large, very black bat with small silver streaks lacing through his fur. Like the last time, Regis grabbed him with his wings and began to rub his face all over Geralt, occasionally licking at him. Unlike the last time Geralt didn’t push him away. Instead he buried his fingers in the great creature’s soft coat and kneaded at the fur. Regis chirped, his ears swiveling around as he sniffed and was satisfied.

“You are soft.” Geralt said, stoking Regis’ face and rubbing under his ears.

“And you are petting me like a dog.” Regis said cheekily, his voice a full octave lower than it had been, with a high overtone. Geralt stopped, embarrassment racing through him. Regis laughed, his voice carrying through the razor sharp teeth.

“I didn’t say I minded however.” He said cheekily. Geralt grinned wolfishly and began scratching Regis’ fur around his neck vigorously with his claws. The bat craned his neck skyward, a satisfied series of whining grunts issued forth, and satisfaction raced through the bond. Geralt laughed.

“Enough of that or we will never take off.” Regis grunted, pushing Geralt away with his wings. He ambled into the clearing and lowered his body to the ground. “Get on my back, avoid stepping on my patagium as it’s uncomfortable, like someone pinching between your fingers.”

Geralt laughed despite himself and walked over to Regis. He looked at him for a moment and then gingerly mounted the giant bat’s back.

“Now, there are two vents at my side close to my hips.” Regis craned his neck looking backwards. “I use them to control airflow over my wings; they will suffice as stirrups for you. Put your feet through them and hook your heels on the underside of my wing. Just don’t be surprised if they squeeze you.”

“Won’t it hurt?” Geralt asked as he shuffled his feet into place.

“Does wearing a belt hurt you?” Regis snorted. “No Geralt, it won’t hurt. Again, just don’t step on it as it creates a pinching sensation that is quite uncomfortable.”

Regis stood and Geralt gripped deep into Regis’ fur along a thick patch that formed a ruff around his neck. Excitement raced through him as Regis ambled over to the tree line and found a path. The strange gait caused Geralt to lean forward.

“That’s the idea,” Regis grunted as he turned his ears every which way and scented the air. “Now lower your head, the takeoff is always rough.”

“Not your first time flying with someone?” Geralt did as was told and felt Regis’ muscle tense as he stretched out his great wings one by one and then stretched his legs, and tail.

“First time on the back.” Regis said, his heart rate picking up. “And here we go!”

Regis loped at a speed that caught Geralt off guard and he let off a high pitched chirp, his ears focused forwards. Just when Geralt thought they were going to hit the trees, Regis leapt upwards with a spring of muscle that almost dislodged Geralt’s hold. Air rushed around them and Regis’ wings snapped open and began pumping.

Geralt couldn’t hold back the excited whoop he made as Regis ascended at an impossible speed. Air stung his eyes as they rushed upwards and his ears popped. The same feeling he got when he was a boy sledding down the mountain side at Kaer Morhen filled him to the brim. He was laughing despite himself as elation sung through the bond. Regis let off a screech of excitement, one that was familiar to Geralt. He had heard it many times in his life, but had no idea it had come from an excited vampire. He had attributed it to some other nameless monster in the night.

They leveled off and Geralt sat up, letting the wind buffet him, his fists iron around the fur at Regis’ neck. He was still whooping and laughing breathlessly as Regis glided. He felt the muscles Regis had spoken about tensing around his legs and the air shifting. He finally chanced a look downward, and was taken aback.

They were close to being as high as the Amell’s were in the distance. He could see just about the whole of the province of Toussaint under him, small lights dotting the countryside signifying the small towns that littered the area. Geralt startled as Regis pumped his wings again and circled around, bringing Beauclair into view.

Geralt gasped. The capital was lit beautifully, the torchlights twinkling framing the palace. Geralt had seen the palace many times throughout his stay, but only ever from the ground. Its great bridge and the tall spires framed the hill it was built on. Geralt noticed now the flow of the palace and its careful placement within the land around it. From the air its elveness was even more stark as the palace grounds and stairs wound around it in a spiral and spilled out into the lakeside docks. It looked like it had grown there, not like it had been built but rather like it was the trunk of a great tree.

_It’s magnificent isn’t it_? Regis sighed through the bond as the bat’s ears swiveled _. The elves took great care in its making, just like they have for everything they once created._

_Everything looks so small, so far apart_. Geralt echoed through the bond. _So insignificant_.

_It is humbling to realize that down there, those trees that look so small, tower over us when we are on the ground._ Regis sung through the bond. _It’s humbling, but at the same time, for me at least it fills me with elation. I am here above it all beyond it all, admiring it in a way only those that can fly can. It’s exhilarating, and I am so glad I have someone to finally share it with._

_I would never want to share it with anyone else._ Geralt let love and gratefulness flow through the bond as he nuzzled his face down into Regis’ fur. He let the wind whip around him enjoying the play of heat from Regis’ fur, and the icy air that flowed around them.

Geralt felt mischief lace through the bond.

_Want to know my second favorite feeling?_ Regis stopped moving his wings and the wind began to slow. Geralt sat upright and looked down.

_What are you doing?_ A raw primal panic filled him as Regis’ body began to tilt and his wings began to fold.

_Hold on!_ Regis laughed through the bond.

Geralt felt weightless and his stomach gave a strange lurch as Regis pointed his nose downwards, his wings folding close to his body. Geralt began to curse in every language known to mankind and then some as Regis began to accelerate into the fall. Geralt felt dizzy as Regis began to spin in circles and their speed increased, the ground rushing up the greet them. They were aiming directly downwards at Beauclair. Geralt lowered himself using his heels and hands to pull himself as close to Regis’ body as he could manage as they spun.

“Fuck… fuck fuck… REGIS AHHHH!” Laughter raced through the bond as Regis’ wings opened differently than the last time. They caught the air and the two of them rushed down under the bridge leading towards the palace. Fear turned to elation as Geralt again whooped as Regis pointed back upwards using his speed and centrifugal force to flip them upside down in a great curving loop that kept Geralt glued to his back. Regis pinned his wings again as they approached the palace for another pass. This time Regis angled himself downward and Geralt yelled as they flew through the arches. With one sharp turn downward they blasted through the palace gate, and startled yells and surprise came from the guards as they streaked past. At their closest passing mere feet from the ground and going at a speed that Geralt could now see would have killed him if he were to hit the ground. Regis angled upwards and again unfurled his wings, taking them back into the air and outside of the city. Geralt felt like a child as he whooped, adrenalin spiking through him. He pumped his fists into the air.

“Gods that was fucking amazing! HA HA!”

_I told you it helped._ Regis said smugly through the bond.

Geralt could feel the giant bat’s quick breaths that mirrored his own as Regis’ heart pumped faster than Geralt had ever felt it pump.

_Sadly like everything it can’t last forever._ Regis said sadly through the bond as Geralt panted, grinning so hard it hurt. _I tire, and I am sure they are worried sick at Corvo Bianco._

“Yeah, let’s go.” Geralt said as Regis lazily angled himself northwards.

They approached the vineyard slowly this time, Regis using the air currents to push himself along where he could instead of fighting the air like he had been. Sure enough as they circled the vineyard they saw a crowd of his workers gathered and shouts filling the air as torches burned.

“The ground is dry Regis, you think you can kick up enough dust to hide yourself until you transform?” Geralt asked as they circled lazily; Geralt taking in the scene. He could make out Barnabas-Basil assigning groups and pointing to a map.

“I can, but they will see me.” Regis answered, his voice carrying clearly now that they weren’t racing at a break neck pace. “I know some of them suspect what I am, but until you introduce me to your staff formally I would rather not frighten them, especially since they are keyed up already.”

“Leave that to me.” Geralt said. “Get us on a final approach.”

Regis flew outwards and spun back, his wings pillowing outwards and his tail scooping at the air like a brake. They slowed and approached the gate. Geralt focused and snapped his fingers. Every single torch on the property went out at once. There was a resounding cry as Regis cleared the gate and whipped his wings forward, kicking up a cloud of dust thick enough that it actually choked Geralt. Regis sneezed as he hit the ground and Geralt tumbled off his back into the dirt in front of the estate house. Regis changed forms as soon as his feet hit the ground, stumbling forwards and falling onto his knees.

Geralt could hear choked cries and yells as they scrambled to re-light the torches. Geralt pulled himself upright and snapped his fingers again, letting the magic race from them. All the torches re-lit. Regis was still on his hands and knees, panting, two large rips showing pink flesh through his tunic and gambeson. The crowd stilled as Geralt waved away the dust from his mouth and it began to settle.

“Geralt?!” Barnabas-Basil stumbled through the dust.

“Here B.B.” Geralt grabbed Regis and hoisted him upwards, the vampire was panting and sweating.

“What on earth happened to you two?!” Barnabas-Basil asked as Regis hunched over and hissed through panting breaths. The dust finally settled enough that Geralt could see the wide eyes of his workers looking at him and Regis. Voices began to lift through the crowd.

“He’s back!”

“He’s here! They made it!”

“Master Regis looks like he has been through hell.”

“Master!”

The crowd surged forwards and Barnabas-Basil shielded them as best as he could. Geralt laughed as relieved cries echoed through the throng.

“Give them room you dolts, they magicked here somehow.” Barnabas yelled. “I said get BACK.”

“I heard a commotion!” Geralt spun words the house as the outline of a woman filled the lit doorway.

“Marlene!” Geralt turned leaving the crowd to cheer and pat one another on their backs. He led Regis stumbling forward towards the house and the woman put her hands over her mouth, tears filling her eyes.

“Geralt!” She stumbled forwards and grabbed him by the face.

Geralt felt tears filling his eyes as well. He choked as Regis pulled away from him, finally catching his breath enough to stand on his own. He embraced the woman and felt a sob rip through his frame. Fresh tears began to flow staining his face and carving channels through the dirt.

“Oh… oh Geralt!” She pulled away, wiping his cheeks with her thumbs. Geralt smiled and choked at the same time. “Master Regis… Your shirt! Come inside quickly both of you. Barnabas-Basil, get the bath up here!”

“Yes, mum!”

Marlene led them into the house and Geralt wiped at his eyes and nose again, smearing snot and dirt across his face. Regis flopped bonelessly down into a chair.

“Here, let me get you two some water.” Marlene said, leading Geralt to a chair and looking at him before turning.

Regis sat up and grabbed Geralt’s knee, his look knowing, his breath still heavy.

“It’s not going to stop now, is it?” Geralt asked tentatively as he reached for a cloth napkin.

“It has never stopped for me.” Regis smiled sadly as Geralt wiped at his face and blew his nose. Marlene rounded the corner with a pitcher of water and two glasses. She quickly set them on the table and poured. She offered one to Regis first, who drained it before she even got the second glass filled. She handed it to Geralt and then refilled Regis’ glass.

“What on earth happened, my dear?” Marlene asked, taking a seat on the bench still holding the water pitcher. “I have never in all my days here seen you cry.”

Geralt felt his lip quivering and bit it, determined to get a hold of himself before he broke down again.

“Found out a lot today, most of it overwhelming.” Geralt shuddered. “Found out what happened to my mother and father, it just hit me rather hard.”

“Witchers live long lives…” Marlene spoke tentatively, re-filling Regis’ cup again.

“I… was created Marlene.” Geralt said his hands working into fists. “And not out of love or spite. I was created, artificially…”

Geralt told the story to Marlene whose expression became more and more stricken as he spoke. Barnabas-Basil had joined them and was listening in rapt silence as the staff filed in silently filling the tub from the well. Regis had his hand on Geralt’s leg as he spoke, his hands working at his trousers. When he finished, tears flowed down Marlene’s face. Barnabas-Basil was stoic, but tentatively wiped at his eyes behind his dark glasses.

“You know what it did?” Geralt’s voice carried over the small group, husky with emotion. “It made me realize what you have become to me. When you said you never would have seen yourself mothering a witcher you weren’t far off the mark. I have only ever had someone worry after me, outside of Ciri, outside of Regis, with some sort of ulterior motive. But you, you have always listened, always cared.”

Marlene sobbed into her hands.

“I never would have guessed how important you would become to me when I lifted the curse that had turned you into a wight and invited you to my home.” Geralt choked. “I didn’t even expect you to stay, I left the door open. You could have left, but you didn’t. You stayed, for me…”

Geralt stood up and crossed the room to the bench. He glanced at the small, frail woman before him. With all the reverence of a pauper greeting a prince he kneeled down and took her small hands in his.

“I can’t thank you enough.” Geralt said, peering up to the woman, tears forming in his eyes.

“Oh Geralt you stupid, _stupid_ , man.” Marlene embraced him and rocked him as Geralt sobbed, his hands fisting into her dress.

 

* * *

 

 

 “You know you can refuse, right?” Vesemir’s voice carried over the common area as witchers milled about around him, carrying out their winter tasks.

Eskel was sitting beside Geralt, his mop of unruly hair matted, and the start of a sparse mustache on the young witcher’s lips. Geralt licked his lip, feeling a slight bit proud as his own mustache had started to finally come in as well. He had just hit fifteen winters, and he had recovered over the course of the year from the Trial of Dreams. Vesemir had given them lesson after lesson about the changes in their physiology, and though it had done little to ease the fact that they would age slower and mature slower than their normal counterparts in the human world, it brought them comfort in the idea that their masculinity would show up, just a bit later.

Their training had never stopped but Geralt found himself often not applying himself. He had felt strange over this past year, Vesemir had told all the boys it was because of the hormone shifts that had been introduced through the Trials. He felt disconnected from everything and everyone, everyone except Eskel. The boys who survived began to pick and pull at their brothers, sparring became more intense, mimicking the adult witchers around the keep. A pecking order had been established, and Geralt was in the dead middle.

The Trial of the Medallion would be coming soon. As well as assignment to their finishing schools. Geralt had secretly hoped he and Eskel would get assigned to the Manticore school. Several Manticore members were at the keep right now, helping Iongram prep for the Trial Geralt was about to undertake. Geralt had buzzed around them asking questions watching as they worked between preparing for Geralt’s Trial. At first they had given him a book to keep him occupied. Then two, then several. All of them were surprised at his ability to brew and control the brewing process of all the various witcher potions. They were doubly surprised when Geralt was able to make the bombs in their arsenal without the need for instruction. It was the first time he had done something on his own where Eskel hadn’t been attached to his hip.

He looked at his friend and smiled. Eskel smiled back his smile tight, guarded; both were ignoring Vesemir who had launched into waxing poetic about the virtues that the Trials represented, and that Geralt needed to always have a choice. Which then turned into a lecture on how to choose boys that could have the potential to become witchers.

He knew Eskel was upset with him beyond his usual typical silent frustration. When Geralt had excitedly mentioned the Manticore school, Eskel had looked crestfallen and had said in a small voice that he hoped they would wind up in the Griffin school. It had turned into an all-out row between them. Beaten and bloody, arousal had filled the room, yet another off-side effect of the Trial of Dreams. They could smell each other’s moods now, smell them and taste them on the air from the other witchers that had begun trickling in from their summer’s travels on the path, and Geralt knew as well as Eskel did how the older witchers solved problems amongst themselves. They attempted in the witcher way to solve the issue, but in the end, all it had done was take the bite out of their fight, and both boys beaten and exhausted had chosen to fall asleep and leave it for another day.

Geralt winced as he realized the memories had keyed him up, and Eskel, he knew from experience, had followed suit on smell alone. When Vesemir caught it he turned and scowled as both boys who had the gall to look sheepish.

“I see I am boring you to the point of fevered imaginings.” Vesemir snorted.

“You would bore most people into fevered imaginings, Vesemir.” Geralt grinned as Iongram walked up, his fur lined winter robes brushing the polished stone floor of the keep.

“School your face, Geralt.” Vesemir scolded. Geralt instantly felt his face fall into the impassive neutral look they all were taught to bear.

“Yet another case of do as I say, not as I do?” The elf asked, his brows arching.

Iongram was tall, even for an elf. His dark brown almost black hair cascaded around his shoulders, which were broad and full. Through his open collar Geralt could see the winding ritual tattoos that peaked out teasing the onlooker. His ears were long and exposed, and more red than usual. His dark brown eyes sparkling with mirth. The only injury he bore was a single thin mark that ran from one side of his neck to the other. He had been outside, his cheeks were flushed and he smelled of ice and wood-smoke.

The elf had been their instructor on magic, and the use thereof. Some of the witchers, like Eskel, excelled at the craft of magic and were trained a little more fiercely in its use. Geralt had the raw talent, but lacked the drive to apply himself when it came to magic. It seemed like a burden, when steel and silver could get the job done just as well.

Iongram also had another purpose. He was the head mage at Kaer Morhen, and he was in charge of the mutations. There were several other mages on staff that could handle the magic needed to guide the boys through the Trial of Grasses and Dreams, but Iongram had it down to a science. He had designed this second Trial Geralt was set to go through.

Vesemir scowled and shot a look to the elf, who tilted his head innocently. Geralt and Eskel giggled before the look was aimed at them and they both sat up straight, schooling their features to impassive.

The elf gracefully sat down beside Geralt and placed a hand on his shoulder. The language of touch had replaced facial expression. The meaning was clear. Support and protectiveness. Geralt felt his face heating up and Vesemir barked at him.

“Use your mutations to control those reactions Geralt, you are too easy to read!” Geralt cringed and activated his still new mutations, forcing the blood away from his face ears and groin. It gave him a headache but he was done being yelled at by Vesemir for the day. The old witcher grunted an approval and leaned against the wall. Iongram scowled up at Vesemir before addressing Geralt directly.

“You ready for tomorrow?” The elf asked, his long fingers applying firm pressure through Geralt’s tattered winter gambeson.

Geralt nodded his head enthusiastically. Beside him Eskel crossed his arms and looked downwards, his expression pained. Iongram stood and crouched in front of him, placing his hands on his knees.

“Do not fear, he will come through it just fine.” Iongram said softly, only causing Eskel to frown further and pointedly look away from the elf. Vesemir was just about to launch into a triad about witchers and emotions when Eskel broke his silence, his voice cracking.

“Why him?” Eskel choked. “Why not me, Leif, any of the others? Why does it have to be him?”

“Geralt has a combination of things that will help him survive.” Iongram spoke softly. “He will be fine, you will see.”

“You boys better run along.” Vesemir groaned. “Geralt, kitchen, Eskel? Master Donovan is in the stables, Fancy Pants is foaling today and he requested your assistance.”

Eskel’s eyes lit up and he looked at Geralt, who couldn’t help but smile. The elf stood and watched them as they stood and raced around the corner on silent feet. Then Eskel flung Geralt into the wall and smashed his lips to his. The kiss was clumsy, like all of them they shared. But its meaning was clear. Eskel pulled away, his expression pained.

“You will not leave me, Geralt.”

“Never, Eskel.” Geralt promised, panting from the effort of keeping his mutations up and his reactions schooled. Eskel put his forehead to Geralt’s and they sighed, calming one another.

Leif took that moment to round the corner, his cheeks red with cold, his thick curly dirty blond hair sticking out from under a furred cap in bouncing ringlets. The boy’s large stature and thick muscles were offset by the fact that his voice had yet to start changing. He still sounded like a little boy.

“Fancy pants is foaling, Eskel!” He said excitedly, not fazed in the least by the physical proximity of the two teenagers in the hallway. “And Tart may go as well!”

“A goat doesn’t foal, Leif.” Eskel said, scoffing and pulling away from Geralt.

“I know that, you idiot.” Eskel and Leif began chatting animatedly about the animals, and Geralt could hear Vesemir and Iongram’s voices begin to rise. He crept as close to the corner as he dared using his still newly minted mutations to listen to the two.

“You should not have given the boy the illusion of choice.” Iongram hissed, his feet padding across the stone, he was pacing.

“An illusion is all he has, Iongram. The other boys have started to notice he is different, that we treat him differently.” Vesemir cursed. “Just let him try to be normal.”

“Witchers and normal rarely go hand in hand.” The elf spat. “He should have been raised this whole time knowing his duty to us, what was expected of him.”

“He will learn of it when the time comes.” Vesemir said, sighing. “You know… He said that just the illusion of choice is enough to make people happy and ignorant. Forgive me if I want to keep him in a state of boyhood as long as possible.”

“You have gotten too attached, you always do.” Iongram sighed.

Geralt turned to round the corner and found himself frozen to the spot. His world lurched and he was strapped to Sad Albert. Vesemir’s sword above him.

“I am so sorry, Geralt…” Geralt felt the blade enter his chest and he screamed.

* * *

 

He sat up and instantly realized he was in bed, his mutations were active and Regis was crouched oddly beside him in a defensive stance despite the fact that both of them were at home, safe, at Corvo Bianco. Regis was running on some sort of second consciousness, his heart beat eerily calm and the bond was strangely silent.

_We are safe Regis. I must write._

Geralt pulled himself from the bed and went over to the desk, lighting the candle there with Igni. Regis blinked and sleep washed over him once more. The vampire just flopped over where he was and Geralt felt his consciousness flit back into sleep. The flight from the night before had taken more out of Regis than he cared to admit. Geralt picked up the quill and brought his foot up onto the chair. He used his leg as a counterbalance and began to write everything that he had just experienced, the scratching of the quill his only companion till the roosters began to crow, and the crows that had taken up residence around the vineyard began to chat at one another.

When at last he finished Regis had begun to stir, stretching, and the vampire was momentarily confused as to why and how he had wound up in the bottom corner of the bed. Geralt smirked and set the quill down.

“Nightmare?” Regis asked, arching his back till a small pop was heard. He sighed and relaxed.

“Yeah, this one had the lead up.” Geralt said, looking at the papers, his chin resting on his knee. He looked over at Regis who was now sending lewd thoughts his way.

The vampire was sprawled on the bed, his legs open, and was stroking himself. Geralt growled and tossed the papers down before attacking the vampire with a wild abandon. The sex was restorative this time around. Geralt took his time and before long Regis had lost himself. It felt good to be on top, he felt strong, accomplished, and watching as the vampire came undone stoked at a deep part of him that wanted him to lay claim to the vampire in the basest forms he could imagine. When Regis finally came with a shout, and a flex of claws down his back, Geralt hissed. He soon followed. After he pulled away he cleaned Regis up by licking where the cum had pooled.

“You do realize actions like that are not conducive to starting the day, don’t you?” Regis asked, licking his lips as Geralt growled and nipped his hip before standing up.

“Unfortunately, now that I am back, at least for a little while, I need to start working in the vineyard more.” Geralt said, going to his drawers and pulling out a set of trousers and tunic.

“What of the elephant in the room, Fringilla?” Regis asked, sitting up.

Geralt stopped for a moment before handing Regis a set of his clothes.

“I think I know what to do.” Geralt said, pulling his tunic over his head. “Gonna need some information from you, though.”

Geralt sat down on the bed to pull on his underwear, and touched the strings in his mind tethering him now to the three witchers. He traveled down the path to Lambert, he could see what the young witcher did. He was looking for a boot he had misplaced. He traveled down to Eskel, he was running through the city with a sick child in his arms. He traveled to Letho, who was preoccupied with Berengar in their room at the palace. He projected the feeling to Regis.

“What is this?” Geralt asked. “This isn’t a bond. It feels one sided. I can see them, feel them clearly, but only if I want to?”

“You can also manipulate them to do what you want.” Regis said, getting dressed. “You did so aptly yesterday.”

“How?” Geralt asked. He felt confused.

“That… is not something I can answer.” Regis furrowed his brows, his lips set in a thin line. “I... know of the gift you have, but not how to use it or utilize it. There are only two others I know that do. One of whom is Dettlaff, he can form bonds with lesser creatures, lesser vampires.”

Geralt frowned.

“That actually brings me to another elephant, you need to talk to him.” Regis looked up as Geralt froze and tensed. He knew instantly Regis could read his thoughts, and it took an act of will to keep the bond open. He wouldn’t hide anything from him.

“You need not be afraid of him.” Regis smiled as the roiling thoughts came through.

Geralt bit his lip and winced. He had torn through it again. He wanted to say that the night of long fangs and the whole of the Beast of Beauclair incident didn’t affect him negatively but it did. Dettlaff had been holding his minions back when they had attacked Beauclair, Geralt knew it down to the core of his being. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

“One thing at a time.” Geralt grumbled. “I am going to the palace this morning and I am going to place one of those… control thingies on Fringilla.”

It was Regis’ turn to balk. His mind began to whir in thoughts too fast for Geralt to catch.

“That… actually could work.” Regis stood up and pulled on his borrowed clothes. “Give me a few minutes to gather my things.”

Geralt looked to Regis, who stopped mid motion.

“I am going to go there alone.” Geralt said. his voice booking no argument. Regis’ pained look almost broke him.

“Why?”

“It’s going to be in and out.” Geralt could already taste the woman’s foul taste on his tongue. “I plan on placing the thread, and getting out of there as quick as I can, no questions, nothing. I couldn’t deal with questioning her right now, not when everything is still so raw.”

“Then you don’t need to be going alone.” Regis scowled.

Geralt looked at the vampire. He could feel Regis’ need to protect him wrapping fiercely around him. He smiled at him sadly. He wanted badly for Regis to join him.

“Bluntness has always been a strong suit for me.” Geralt started, looking at the vampire, pulsing love and appreciation through the bond. “Over the course of the years we have been separated I have learned politics and bureaucracy. Right now, even as we speak, the people that know who you are, and don’t have any idea about me and my changes, are sitting there thinking that you have me in your thrall.”

Regis’ breath hitched, his eyes widening.

“Our relationship is open.” Geralt continued, looking at Regis. “But to all those at the palace? None of them save for Yennefer and the witchers knew, or have known that I am not picky when it comes to the gender of those I give myself to. Every last one of them has this image in their head of who I am, how I act. I need to keep the appearance up that I am still my own person, now more so than ever. The players are starting to align themselves, and it’s going to start getting rough. They don’t know that you can’t make human thralls. You can enchant them for a time sure, just long enough to get blood out of them, but at a great cost to yourself. They don’t know that.”

“I had never even thought to picture it like that.” Regis sighed, rubbing his clawed fingers on his temples. “You know how uncomfortable I am with you interacting with that woman. I can’t even articulate it, I feel it so fiercely, and for me to be incoherent is practically unheard of. You know this world better than I do, so I will acquiesce.”

Geralt smiled and approached Regis, wrapping his arms around the vampire, pushing warmth into him. Regis sighed and leaned into the touch.

“I will leave the bond open completely, yet again so you know what I am up to.” Geralt rumbled softly against Regis’ shoulder.

Regis pulled Geralt’s hair, suddenly causing the witcher to gasp.

“You will owe me.” Regis tugged his hair at every word. Geralt’s breath shuddered through him. “You will come back and you will do as I say as a penance. My terms, remember?”

Geralt didn’t even get to protest as Regis slammed him up against the wall, kissing him fiercely. The memories of the night before the attack on the orphanage filled his brain, his body heating. Regis ground up against him through his clothes. When Geralt tried to reach for the vampire Regis grabbed his hands and pinned them against the wall. He pulled back and bit Geralt on the neck hard enough to bruise. Geralt moaned. Power rushed through the bond, crushing Geralt, making him wilt against Regis as he bit and licked a path to his ear.

“Fuck… Regis.”

“Say it, Geralt.” Regis whispered against his ear.

“Your terms…” Geralt breathed and was rewarded as Regis licked and nibbled at his ear.

“You are mine, remember that.” Regis said. “And I am yours, and you will do as I say or the punishment…”

Geralt gasped as Regis pinched his nipple through his shirt, hard enough to bruise.

“…will be severe.” Regis tilted Geralt’s chin up and ghosted his lips across the witcher’s. “And you do not want to know the creative ways in which I will bestow my vengeance upon you.”

Geralt blinked as Regis pulled back, a cruel promise on his lips in the guise of a smile. Geralt shuddered and licked his lips, he was shaking, adrenalin kicking through his system. He looked at the vampire, need written across his face as his erection tented his loose pants.

“And I will leave you like that.” Regis turned and grabbed the shirt Geralt had offered and pulled it over his head in a smooth motion. “You will have to deal with the gift I left you, but you will not touch yourself.”

“Yes, Regis.” Geralt groaned, the pulsing heat from his erection driving him to near madness.

When Geralt finally got his wits about him, Regis had decided that he would go visit Dettlaff. His first true visit to the incapacitated vampire. Geralt grumbled, but felt it was fair, all things considered. Regis and him shared breakfast, which had actually been cooked by the new apprentice Marlene had taken on. The whole of breakfast was spent in silence as Regis blasted wave after wave of debauched thoughts through the bond. Geralt felt his control slipping, and was right at the edge of giving up and rutting the vampire right on the table, when Regis took his leave and walked out of the house, smiling.

Geralt sat for a few minutes, activating his mutations and sending the blood flooding elsewhere before he went outside. By the time he did Regis was on his way out of the estates gate, riding Vlad.

“Separating for the day?” Barnabas-Basil asked as Geralt headed down to the stables.

“Yeah, he has to run a few errands, and I need to go to the palace.” Geralt grumbled under his breath.

“Good,” Barnabas-Basil said, the finality of it causing Geralt to pause and look at the man, who instantly stammered. “I didn’t mean… I mean… I did, but not in the way you…”

The man shook his head, took a deep breath and straightened his shirt.

“We will continue construction on the bath house today in earnest.” Barnabas said, regaining his composure. “The walls will be going up today; it’s good you will both be gone so we can continue construction without interruption. If all goes well, the brickwork should be done today, and the roof work should be done tomorrow. There was a masonry crew who was looking to leave now that the statue of Lebioda, and temple, have been completed and renovated. I have commissioned them to complete the bath.”

Geralt’s eyes lit up.

“How soon will it be complete?” Geralt asked.

“If the weather holds, within the week.” Barnabas-Basil said, smiling to himself. “They are a massive crew, very well organized. They updated the temple in less than a year, a single bath is child’s play. However, I must warn you, the house is likely to be dusty, and after you depart I am going to put sheets on everything as they cut through the walls to make the doorway. It’s likely going to be a mess for a few days so I am going to set up a tent outside that you may take your meals in.”

Geralt grinned.

“I also have an imperial actuary coming by as well, to analyze the property and get a proper grasp on how much the property is worth, as well as figuring out how to best secure the property against future risks.” Barnabas-Basil looked over the vineyard fondly. “You attract trouble, we need to be prepared on all fronts to be able to handle a disaster, even more so with that earthquake we had the other day. He will analyze your investments as well to make sure they are in their proper places and keep the income strong through the winter months, till we can start selling our first batches of wine.”

Geralt nodded.

“I won’t be gone the whole day, I plan on getting back before lunch.” Geralt said, looking as his workers hurried to and fro through the vines. “How has that fertilizer I made worked on the soil on the fallow fields to the north and west?”

“Beautifully,” Barnabas said, smiling. “They will be ready to plant come spring.”

“Good, I want to put more grapes up there; I also want to let the southern field rest next year.” Geralt said, looking down to the field where workers were planting cabbage, spinach, beets and various other cold weather vegetables. “The vineyard is going to expand, and I would like to prepare and plough a new field directly west of the servants’ quarters to be tended by the workers for their families.”

Barnabas grinned from ear to ear.

“That is a fine courtesy you are extending them, Sir.” Barnabas-Basil nodded his approval. “It’s good to finally have you back.”

Geralt patted the majordomo on the shoulder.

“It’s good to be back, I have other things I wish to discuss, but they can wait.” Geralt said as they reached the stable. “I do however wish to gather the workers and their families tonight, make a bonfire, break out some of the wine, place tables with food, and bring benches. I want to introduce Regis to them formally.”

Barnabas-Basil balked, his sunny expression turning pensive behind his dark glasses.

“Sir, do you think that’s wise?” Barnabas-Basil asked, his voice dropping to a hissed whisper.

“B.B, we had to create a distraction so fierce last night that it about killed us both in order for us to arrive.” Geralt said, his eyes serious. “Regis is harmless to them, they need to know that, and I need to know their loyalty to me is true. Things are getting ready to shift radically around here.”

Barnabas-Basil narrowed his eyes. Geralt looked at him fiercely. He finally decided to address something that had been bothering him for a while.

“I know you were reporting to the Duchess, up till she was imprisoned.” Geralt said, looking at his majordomo as his skin paled and his heart rate picked up. Geralt felt the swoop of thirst rock through him as Barnabas-Basil’s pulse became visible through the skin on his neck.

“Where does your loyalty lay now?” Geralt asked, pinning Barnabas-Basil with his gaze. “And do not lie, I like you B.B, But I can see, smell, and hear lies now better than I ever could before.”

“I have been reporting to master del La Tour on the regular about your movements.” Barnabas-Basil answered, swallowing fiercely, a sheen of sweat on his lip. “It was part of my commission. This vineyard has a sordid history, and has been used by the Ducal family to keep track of the movements of political enemies.”

“Am I a political enemy?” Geralt asked, stepping up to Barnabas-Basil, his mutations activating and his eyes glowing.

“N…No sir.” Barnabas-Basil gasped as he backed up into the wall of the stable house.

Geralt brought out his amulet of the golden sun, and fished in his bags for his scroll and ring. He made a show of slipping the ring on his middle finger and Barnabas-Basil tensed.

“You know what this is, because by all accounts you are a spy.” Barnabas-Basil swallowed, the color draining from his face. “Barnabus-Basil Foulty, as Dhu Evn'gesaen I release you from the service of the duchy, and from the service of any other in Nilfgaard you may have reported to, other than the Emperor himself. Your monetary recompense will remain as I will be speaking to Damien and Morvran about this today. From today forward, should you choose to, you are now under my sole care, and will be till you retire, at which time I will build you a house on the lands of your choosing, where you will live out your days in comfort.”

Barnabas-Basil’s eyes widened and he took off his glasses.

“You will report to me, and only me.” Geralt continued. “You are to protect the interests of myself and my family to the best of your abilities. You will act as a spy in my stead, with your ears and eyes open to all that is happening in the vineyard and beyond. This place, this piece of land is mine, all the people here are mine, but not in the sense of slaves, you are mine to take care of, my responsibility. You are my family, my…”

Geralt almost said pack, but stopped himself short, looking at the bald headed man.

“Do you accept?” Geralt asked looking at the bald headed man.

“Of course I accept.” Barnabas-Basil breathed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Geralt pulled him under the trellis of the stable, out of view of the workers. The man was caught off guard and stumbled. Geralt loosened the ring Regis gave him and felt the power trickling into his being. He held it at bay.

“Give me your wrist.” Geralt said.

Barnabas-Basil looked at him, his eyes wide and hesitant. He loosened his sleeve and pulled it up. Geralt felt approval racing through the bond as he took the man’s wrist.

“I am going to bind you to me till I release you, or you want to be released.” Geralt said, looking at the man’s wide eyes. “Do you accept?”

“Do I truly have a choice?” Barnabas-Basil asked, his heart rate ticking up, his back bracing against the wall.

Geralt instantly flashed to Vesemir in his nightmare.

“You will always have a choice, even when you are bound to me.” Geralt said sternly. “I wasn’t given a choice; no one under my care will have to suffer from lack of choice so long as I live.”

“Even if I were to come to you in an hour and inform you I was going to back out, pack my bags, and head for the hills?” Barnabas-Basil asked. “My family has been serving as spies and majordomos of estates for several generations, we were born into it. I have never known anything else.”

“If you were to tell me you wanted to become a fisherman, I would let you go as a friend to seek out that which you would want to do most, buy you a boat, and the best equipment and wish you luck.” Geralt replied, his eyes flashing. “I would be disappointed, but the cycle of servitude stops here. You have a choice, a true choice, so choose.”

There was no hesitation. Barnabas-Basil licked his lips and his eyes became stern and solid.

“It would be an honor to continue serving you, master Geralt de Corvo Bianco.” He said, planting his feet and bracing his back against the wall.

Geralt’s eyes flashed red and his fangs elongated. Thirst roared through him as Barnabas-Basil gasped, but didn’t pull away. He pulled the man’s wrist to his nose and sniffed. Spice and heady cologne filled his nose, along with the scent of the vineyard.

“Brace yourself, B.B.” Geralt growled.

He brought the man’s wrist to his mouth and pierced his skin, letting the venom flow as he pulled and the man’s savory blood flooded through his system. Barnabas-Basil eyes closed and his skin flushed as Geralt pulled, enjoying the unique taste of the man. He felt himself reacting to the blood as Barnabas-Basil stifled a moan. Geralt felt the thread forming as he pulled, willing it into existence and coiling itself around the man who was currently at his mercy. Geralt pulled himself away and licked at the man’s wrist. He waited till the wound was closed and fading before he let the man’s wrist fall away. Geralt explored the thread, looking at himself through Barnabas-Basil’s eyes. The reaction he felt was odd, confused, and wondering. He blinked, coming back to himself

“You are…” Geralt looked at the man as he steadied himself and stood up.

“A eunuch, yes.” Barnabas-Basil said simply, his recovery so much faster than the others. “The last of my line in more ways than one. My father failed in his duties, and to retain his life, they took mine. And you, you are not just a witcher, are you?”

Geralt shook his head, regarding the man in a new light.

“I don’t know what I am.” Geralt said, shifting his ring back on, and letting the power fade, his eyes returning to normal. “Now do you understand why I need the loyalty of those around me?”

“You are instinctually driven to keep a territory.” Barnabas-Basil stated, surprising Geralt. “One of the things I was briefed on when I took a post here in Toussaint was the frequency of vampires. Due to my closeness to the soon to be late Duchess, I was informed of the roll of vampires here in the duchy. I was informed to keep clear of certain areas, and to keep my charges clear of certain areas to avoid conflict.”

“Who has this territory now?” Geralt asked, blinking in amazement.

“The capital and all lands surrounding it are considered neutral territory due to the concentration of vampires here.” Barnabas-Basil said, examining his wrist in wonder. “The Sansretour river is the boundary line to the east, Castel Ravello to the north, the Sansmerci mountains to the west, and Tesham Mutna to the south, the territories extend from there.”

Geralt felt his mind working as he stepped out from under the trellis, his hand at his mouth. Barnabas Basil’s blood left a warm aftertaste in his mouth.

“You have given me much to think on, B.B.” Geralt said, turning and regarding the man as he put his dark glasses back on. “I would like to sit and have a conversation with you at some point.”

“What is the extent of your control over me?” Barnabas asked, causing Geralt’s eyebrows to shoot up.

“To be honest, I don’t know.” Geralt’s brows furrowed. “It’s something that is new to me, and something Regis had no explanation for.”

“Let’s test it, I am curious to see it in action so I know when I am being controlled.” Barnabas-Basil said, following Geralt into the light and standing with his arms behind his back. “I don’t want to be caught off guard.”

Geralt grinned and felt the thread in his mind.

“Ok…” Geralt said, facing the man and crossing his arms. “Resist me.”

Barnabas-Basil nodded curtly, his chin jutting just the slightest bit higher.

“Touch your head.” Geralt plucked at the thread as he gave the order. Barnabas-Basil did as Geralt said, his eyes widening.

“Touch your toes.” Geralt didn’t pluck the thread this time and Barnabas-Basil stood still, his hand still on his head.

“Lower your arm and pluck a leaf of ivy from the trellis.” Geralt plucked the thread and Barnabas-Basil turned, the movement natural and unforced, and he went over, examined the leaves, and picked one.

“This is strange.” Barnabas-Basil said, examining the leaf. “It doesn’t feel like you are forcing me to do anything, it’s like the idea is my own.”

Geralt grinned. He plucked the string again giving a silent command. Barnabas-Basil faced him his stance relaxing. Geralt grinned as the man’s hand traveled upwards and he began to talk.

“Really, I wouldn’t be able to tell if you were giving me a command or not.” Barnabas’s finger found his nose and he dug around a bit as a worker holding a barrel walked by and stopped dead. He pulled his finger out, examined it, and then flicked the piece of mucus to the ground, in one smooth movement.

Geralt began laughing. The worker was still staring at Barnabas-Basil dumbfounded. Barnabas-Basil grimaced and then realized what had happened. His face flushed instantly red. Geralt laughed harder as the worker turned and headed down the hill his eyes wide and confused.

“Well if juvenile pranks are all that this winds up being used for I suppose I can manage.” Barnabas-Basil groused.

“Ha!” Geralt got himself under control. “I promise B.B, I won’t use it unless it is absolutely necessary.”

“I would appreciate it, Sir.” Barnabas-Basil said, adjusting his glasses and regaining his composure. “Will Regis be joining you for lunch?”

“Not sure,” Geralt said, heading into the stable and leading Roach out. “I will let you know when I get back, if not, just something simple for me will do.”

“Very well, Sir.” Barnabas said curtly. “Have a safe trip.”

Geralt hefted himself up onto Roach and grinned. Barnabas-Basil smiled back, and Geralt nudged her ribs and lead her out of the yard.

When he arrived at the palace, he felt Regis had also arrived to where Dettlaff had been holed up. Geralt found the two of them in his mind’s eye, on the north side of the lake. Geralt vaguely remembered taking a contract for a vintner around that area, it was full of caves, a perfect place for a wounded vampire. Regis’ end of the bond tempered down, not fully sealing him off, but enough that Geralt could only catch the feelings of happiness and concern that floated through. He smiled and allowed the two their privacy, though trepidation also had its place. Regis soothed him as he stabled Roach and walked through the lower kitchen entrance, the palace staff greeting him as he went.

When he rounded a corner he bumped full into a guard, who glowered down at him.

“At ease.” Morvran Voorhis’ voice tittered from behind the wall of the man standing before him.

Geralt blinked as the man, now dressed in his full regalia, his hair freshly washed and his eyes freshly charcoaled, regarded him.

“Geralt, I did not expect to see you back so soon!” Morvran grinned, his accent thick. “And where is Regis? Following behind shortly, I suppose?”

“Nah, he is visiting a sick friend today.” Geralt said, noting as Morvran’s expression shifted minutely, his eyes becoming sharp. “Since we are technically off duty for the moment he is taking the time to catch up with his acquaintances.”

“Huh, I haven’t seen you two apart since I arrived.” Morvran said, his eyes narrowing minutely. “Forgive me for being bold in my assumptions, but I figured you two were inseparable.”

Geralt snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“Really Morvran, if you were to have a wife, would you want to be in her presence at all hours?” Geralt asked, eyeing the man easily.

“You have a point.” Morvran said, a small grin chasing away his sharp expression.

“Actually, I need to see you and Damien.” Geralt cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. “Just for a moment, I know you are busy now that the Emperor is on his way back.”

“Most certainly Geralt, I also have a need to speak with you.” Morvran spoke easily, his hands clasping behind his back as he turned. Geralt followed, the guards surrounding them as they moved.

“I have been looking through the rosters, and I have yet to see you have signed up for the tourney.” Geralt’s eyes widened. “I had hoped that you, the knight champion of Toussaint would attempt to keep your title? I know that Gregoire here would love to try his hand at you again.”

Geralt turned and felt his stomach drop as the man glowered down at him. He hadn’t recognized him without his full costumed garb on. He let off a nervous laugh.

“Well, I will stop by the tourney grounds on the way home this morning and make sure I sign up.” Geralt chanced a look back to the huge man behind him and saw him smile and nod to himself. Geralt let off a sigh. When he looked back to Morvran the blond haired Nilfgaardian was grinning back at him.

“There will of course be new challengers, Gregoire has been training with Letho when he can spare a moment.” Geralt groaned and he heard the man behind him let off a deep rumble of a chuckle. “I expect that even more will show up, since the Emperor will be officiating this event. We started construction to expand the arena to allow for a larger audience. Personally I am looking forward to watching the horse races as always, the added challenge of archery on horseback is a personal favorite of mine. We have adjusted the course and made it more difficult this time around.”

“It was hard enough the first time around.” Geralt groused.

“And yet, you succeeded.” Morvran smiled. “I confess I am a bit of a masochist when it comes to challenges like this, I do hope Roach is up for the task?”

“She always is.” Geralt grinned.

“The course has been designed with the horses’ comfort in mind, some jumps have been added, however the challenge to the riders will be like nothing ever seen before!” Morvran boasted as he rounded a corner to the hallway were Damien’s office was located. “The course will be doubled up, two riders, on two paths parallel to one another, so many surprises I want to speak of, but I also want to see how you rise to the challenge, so I won’t give you any sort of unfair advantage.”

“Thanks.” Geralt grumped.

The guard at the door opened it and announced both Geralt and Morvran. Geralt stepped in and was surprised as Keira Metz squealed and jumped into his arms. Geralt’s nostrils flared as her scent flooded his nose. Then he caught Lambert’s scent, still thick and heady on her person. He snorted and hugged her back before depositing her back on the floor.

“Geralt!” She gushed, looking at him, smiling. “So glad to see you under better circumstances than last time.”

Geralt looked around the office; Yennefer was nowhere to be found. He looked at Damien.

“It’s good to see you too, Keira.” Geralt smiled warmly at the soft woman in front of him. “Where is Lambert?”

Keira snorted and crossed her arms. Geralt could see the blush rising to her cheeks and neck.

“That little shit?” She groused, fondness creeping into her voice despite her best efforts. “Likely getting himself into some sort of trouble. He is a magnet for it you know.”

Geralt quickly traveled the thread and saw him standing beside Eskel, stuffing his face with something warm and meaty as Eskel was talking to one of the medics somewhere in Beauclair. He snapped back and Keira looked at him. Geralt felt the magic gathering, and this time, fully prepared, gently redirected it around himself as Keira attempted to sweep his mind.

“Would appreciate it if you didn’t do that.” Geralt said softly as Keira’s eyes widened.

“Seems as though you have gained some skill since I saw you last, White Wolf.” She said cheekily. “Don’t worry, I won’t press my luck, I have other things I must attend to.”

“Lambert’s cock doesn’t count.” Geralt grinned then realized his mistake as she turned to him, her smile turning wicked.

“Oh, Geralt, we all know how much you enjoy tending his cock.” Geralt winced.

“Walked into that one, didn’t I?” He asked as Morvran’s eyes got wide and Damien coughed.

“Walked isn’t the word I would use…” Keira said, sidling her exposed shoulder to Geralt’s chest and looking up to him with a sly grin. Geralt groaned, his mutations keeping his physical reaction in check.

“Yes, well…”

“Hmmmm?” Keira said, her hazel eyes boring into him. Geralt coughed and she laughed spinning away from him, all skirts and skin.

“Do take care of yourself, Geralt.” She said, winking and walking out of the door.

Geralt sighed and felt his muscles relax.

“Dare I ask?” Morvran asked, eyeing Geralt.

“No, you don’t.” Geralt stated simply, shaking his head and looking at the two men left in the room.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Damien asked, his tone guarded as he looked at Geralt. “I was under the impression that you wouldn’t be returning for quite some time. Where is master Regis?”

“It seems our vampire friend is off visiting a sick acquaintance.” Morvran said simply.

Geralt stood up straighter and looked at the both of them.

“How far do the powers of Dhu Evn'gesaen extend Morvran? Who has the rights to rescind the title?” Geralt asked, diving right into it; he had stuff to do today outside of the palace and the quicker he was out, the better. Morvran narrowed his eyes.

“I gave you the title in the Emperor’s voice.” He said, his tone guarded. “The only person that has the rights to rescind the title is the Emperor himself, or I in his voice under his orders.”

“And?” Geralt asked raising a brow.

“So long as it has to do with serving the empire, and his Imperial Majesty, the power is exactly as I stated it before.” Morvran said, straightening. “I see you are wearing the signet ring, and the amulet. 

Geralt regarded both of the men. Both were tense.

“I know master Foulty has been spying on me for you Damien.” Geralt said, watching as the man’s mustache twitched and his heartbeat increased. The smell of stress sweat filled the room from both men. “Something I do not appreciate as I appreciate my privacy, now more so than ever.”

Damien swallowed.

“I would like to formally announce as Dhu Evn'gesaen that I have released master Foulty from your service.” Geralt said as Damien took in an audible breath and Morvran looked over at the bald scarred man, his brows narrowing.

“I had no idea you had a spy at Geralt’s estate, why was I not informed of this upon arrival?” Morvran hissed, his usually calm facade breaking.

“Lady Yennefer…” Geralt felt his ire flaring, and felt Regis buck up against his mind, the bond suddenly open again.

“I do not care who kept the order in place.” Geralt’s voice was ice. “He is now completely in my service, he will retain all of the stipends he was receiving, and he will no longer be reporting to anyone but myself. I am going to have him write down a report on every single interaction he has shared with you, Damien. I am also ordering you as Dhu Evn'gesaen to do the same. I know he will not lie to me, so your reports better match.”

Morvran sputtered, his visage irate.

“Damien de la Tour, you know of my station, something I do not wield for all to see.” Morvran hissed, his voice taking on the cold cadence of Emhyr’s. “I have kept your dalliances with Anna Henrietta out of the public eye with my own network of spies, solely because I was under the impression that you were…”

Morvran straightened himself and took in a deep breath, his blue eyes cold as steel.

“Geralt, thank you for bringing this to my attention.” Morvran said, regarding the witcher; his face a mask. His heart rate had skyrocketed and his scent had changed as anger coursed below the surface. “If there is nothing else, I would ask you to take your leave.”

“There is one more thing.” Geralt said. “Where is Fringilla?”

Morvran blinked and looked to Damien, who was pale with sweat ringing down his face.

“Sh…she and Yennefer, are in her quarters.” Damien said. “Yennefer is currently questioning her.”

Geralt turned and bowed to Morvran deeply and formally. The young man stiffened and nodded at Geralt, a blush filling his cheeks. Geralt turned and walked out the door. He listened for a second and heard Morvran talking in low tones that nearly completely irradiated his poncy lilt. Geralt decided as he heard Damien stammering that he would rather not be on the receiving end of that voice. He quickly turned and jogged through the palace.

When he arrived in the hallway he could smell coffee and some pastries. Geralt snuck up to the closed door and pressed his ear to it. Yennefer was talking to Fringilla in a strained tone; the longer he listened the more he realized it wasn’t about her involvement with the orphanage. He frowned as Yennefer was questioning her about the Lodge and her current involvement. Fringilla was evading the questions skillfully and laughing at Yennefer’s expense.

He growled and tried the door. His amulet vibrated hard as he touched it. Magic. He cursed to himself and was about to knock, when a stray thought crossed his mind. He remembered the days of the Hanza, and he remembered scanning magic not being able to pick up vampires. He quickly pocketed the ring Regis had given him and stifled a groan as he felt the power well up inside him. He pushed his transformation as far as he could this time, drawing as much power around him as he possibly could. He blinked as the thirst from earlier washed over him, and started further still when he could hear heartbeats all around him. He chanced a look through the hallway, there were guard’s here and there, and there were workers further down where Fringilla and Eskel had battled the previous day. He licked his lips and almost pulled away from the door when Regis’ presence slammed into him.

_No._

The command was simple, but the accompanying imagery was anything but. He hissed, his forehead hitting the door as heat rushed through him. There was a lull in the conversation and Geralt could hear both women’s heart rates picking up and he felt his amulet pulsing as Yennefer gathered up her magic. He tried the door again, this time it was like sticking his hand in cold water. It was uncomfortable but he pushed the door open slowly and stepped in. As he passed through the barrier Yennefer gasped.

“Geralt, what are you doing here?” The small woman stood up and balked as Geralt bared his fangs at her. Fringilla was looking out at the horizon and had missed the display.

“I see the wolf has finally come to claim his prize.” Fringilla sneered, standing. When she looked at Geralt her eyes widened.

“I am warning you Geralt, not a step…” Yennefer’s warning was lost as Geralt stalked across the room and grabbed Fringilla, she was in a new set of cuffs, and no magic was around her as his hands closed on her arms.

Yennefer’s outraged choke was drowned as Geralt lifted Fringilla and slammed her against the wall, being careful with his strength to not hurt her. He made the sign for Quen and the glimmering shield surrounded them as Yennefer began to cast something. Geralt pushed forwards and kissed Fringilla harshly, his movements demanding. All he could think about as Fringilla balked then leaned into the kiss was Regis. Geralt prodded at her mouth with his tongue as Yennefer’s first spell ricocheted off of the shield.

The kiss turned more demanding and when he felt Fringilla moan, he quickly aimed his hand backwards and cast Yrden, Yennefer choked and was glued to the spot, her magic halted in its tracks.

“Geralt, what are you doing?!” Yennefer keened, struggling against the spell, a spell that was now augmented by the strength coursing through him.

He had a job to do. He called his witcher mutations forward, and directed blood through his body, to his ears, face, neck, and groin. He felt himself harden, a false promise if there ever was one, and he thrust forward. Fringilla keened and broke the kiss, her own hips canting downwards. Geralt began kissing at her ear and down her neck, nipping at her with his teeth.

“See Yennefer? I knew he would come back to me.” She gloated, moaning as Geralt ran his tongue along her collarbone, his hand finding her breast and cupping it. Fringilla tilted her head back and grabbed at his hair.

“Geralt…” Geralt pulled away just long enough to look at Yennefer. Her expression was stricken, it was the same one she had worn when he had let her know the bond that bound them no longer held them. Geralt smiled and winked at her, and her expression changed to one of confusion. He licked at his fangs, venom already dripping from the tips; he opened his mouth and let his tongue find the pulsing artery in Fringilla’s neck.

“No!” Yennefer struggled against the Yrden but it was too late. Geralt bit down hard on Fringilla’s neck and pulled. The woman’s cry of pain turned into a shuddering whine of pleasure as he drank. The taste that flooded into his mouth was foul, tainted. It was like sucking at the broth of week old fish soup that had been left in the sun to ferment. Geralt had to force himself to keep drawing as he felt the thread begin to wind around his consciousness.

Yennefer was spitting obscenities at him when the thread finally snapped into place and Geralt pulled away and licked at the wound, wincing at the bitter caustic flavor. As soon as the wound began to close Geralt dropped her to the floor, eliciting a yelp from the woman as the smell of arousal flooded the room. Geralt shuddered as her blood rushed through him.

“What is the meaning of this?” Fringilla snarled, wincing, and reaching for her neck. When she pulled away her hand and blood came back she screamed and scrambled away from Geralt.

Geralt felt her blood tickling down his chin and wiped at his mouth with the back of his gloved hand, as she screamed. He hissed at her.

“Enough!” Geralt turned and stumbled, dropping the Quen. He plucked at the newly formed thread in his mind and Fringilla instantly went silent.

Yennefer looked at him with wide eyes, as he eyed her.

“Am I next?” Yennefer asked, her voice shaking even though her expression was impassive.

“No.” Geralt rumbled. “Promise you won’t rend me?”

Yennefer frowned.

“Only if you don’t eat me.” Yennefer spat.

Geralt released the Yrden, and Yennefer stepped forward quickly and slapped Geralt across the face. She pulled back and winced. She had cut her hand on one of his fangs. Geralt’s nostril’s flared as the scent of her blood washed over him. He licked at the new blood. Yennefer smelled as she had before, but cleaner, no alcohol, more energy. He shuddered and willed himself to hold still.

“It’s like slapping a rough statue.” Yennefer groused as she cradled her split open palm.

“May I?” Geralt asked, his claws flexing at the air. Yennefer regarded him then looked down to Fringilla who was still on the floor.

“You may.” Yennefer said tenitively, holding out her palm. Geralt made a show of approaching her slowly and kneeled down on one knee in front of the woman. Fringilla made a strangled noise as Geralt took his hand and caressed Yennefer’s arm and brought her palm to his face. He looked at her his eyes half lidded.

“You know where my loyalties lie, mother of my child.” Geralt purred, looking up to her, willing her to catch his meaning. A sultry smile passed her face as her shoulders relaxed. She ran her uninjured hand through his hair and pressed her palm, now cupped with blood to his lips. Geralt groaned as he lapped at the blood, this time his reaction genuine. Her blood tasted as she smelled. Lilacs and gooseberries. He sucked and licked at the wound till it closed, then nuzzled her palm.

Regis was laughing through the bond, and Dettlaff was sending approval through the pack bond.

“You see, Fringilla,” Yennefer said, pulling away from Geralt and trailing her fingers along his jaw. “You are not the only one with friends in high places.”

“The Emperor will kill you for your fraternization with that freak!” Fringilla spat. Geralt looked to her still kneeling as Yennefer walked in front of the woman. Geralt stood and walked to Yennefer, his eyes cold as he regarded Fringilla.

“Stand.” He said, surprising Yennefer. Fringilla lifted herself up and looked between them, her eyes confused.

“Sit down in that chair over there, you will wait as I have to speak to Yennefer.” Fringilla nodded and swallowed as her body carried out the orders. Yennefer looked at Geralt, her violet eyes stormy and cold.

“When Yennefer returns, you will answer every question she asks, truthfully, tactfully, and to the point.” Geralt said, plucking at the string in his mind connecting her with enough force she shuddered. “Is that clear?”

“Yes… Geralt.” She said, looking down. “Anything for you.”

Geralt turned and walked to the door. Yennefer followed with a last glance to the woman who was sitting with her hands in her lap, tears running down her face.

When Geralt heard the door close he turned to Yennefer.

“Bubble.” He said, finally allowing his body to feel the effects of the blood in full.

He felt magic wash over them and he collapsed, breathing hard as he fumbled for the ring.

“What was that?” Yennefer hissed at him. Geralt found it and slipped it onto his finger, his visage returning to normal. The heat that had pooled in his groin pulsed at him.

_Remember, you cannot touch, and I will add to it, neither can she._ Regis pulsed through the bond, that same feeling from the morning washing over him. He keened and leaned forwards, his fists slamming the cold marble floor. Yennefer was pacing now and looking down at him as he willed his mutations to reverse the flow.

“Geralt, get a hold of yourself _this_ instant and tell me what _that_ was.” Yennefer snarled, stomping her high heeled foot on the ground in front of his face.

“You will listen to me… for once.” Geralt hissed as the blood pulled away, settling instead in that area deep inside him. He pulled himself upwards, wobbling unsteadily, his head throbbing in pain.

“Why did you allow Barnabas-Basil to spy on me, what did you hope to gain?” Geralt growled as Yennefer’s face contorted in rage.

“I will analyze any and all threats against the Emperor, including you.” She barked.

Geralt had her up against the door in an instant.

“I have offered you every courtesy available within my limits, Yennefer.” Geralt hissed as she looked up at him her eyes steel. “And I will continue to do so if only for Ciri’s sake. I have not taken your mind as I have Fringilla, though at this moment I have every right to. You have betrayed me at every turn. Every… last… one… and yet…”

He pulled away, schooling his features into that impassive mask he had worn throughout the years.

“We share too much history for me to even think to.” Geralt said, looking at the smaller woman as a myriad of emotions crossed her face. “We have much to discuss, you and I.”

Yennefer swallowed visibly.

“Yes, Geralt we do.” She said, looking at him as he looked down the hallway.

“You understand what I did in there, don’t you?” Geralt said, looking back to the woman. “I gave you power over her, you will be able to get a confession, find out anything and everything you could ever hope to know.”

“And you put yourself at my heel.” Yennefer said, a small smirk appearing. “A power play.”

“I understand the whispers that have been spreading.” Geralt watched her reaction. “I know what people have been saying behind closed doors, I can see it in the looks they give me and Regis as we pass through the palace. Fringilla’s mouth is loose, and will continue to be so. She knows who the loyalists are. She knows what I am, what Regis is. Putting myself in your thrall, and making it look like you planned that, will play in our favor.”

“It does, more so than you know.” Yennefer nodded, her expression still guarded.

“I extend that to an actual deal.” Geralt said simply as Yennefer’s brows shot up. “Barnabas-Basil is no longer in your control, you may not have him. However, now you have Regis and I at your beck and call. I only ask that you respect our privacy, and allow us time to recover.”

Yennefer crossed her arms, hugging them to herself. She bit at her lip and looked down, her expression pained.

“We have kept secrets for far too long from one another.” Geralt said, reaching over to her and lifting her chin forcing their eyes to meet. “We have continued to injure each other for far too long, and I am tired of it Yen, absolutely exhausted. We have Ciri, and I would like to have your friendship. Not the friendship that you have given to me in the past, a bomb waiting to go off. But a true friendship. You are and have always been a part of my pack from the moment I met you, I am done keeping secrets from you, done trying to hurt you. We need to heal Yennefer, for our sakes, for Ciri’s sake.”

“Your pack?” Yennefer asked, looking up to him.

“It’s a bond of camaraderie that vampires share.” Geralt sighed. “Something that is new to me, though I have been suffering under its influence for years. You are one of my chosen family, Yen, the mother of my child. Regis approves of you, as it was him who sought your blood and body. I do not want to be your adversary, I don’t want to have to fight you, but I also need you to trust me, to tell me what is happening, so I am not caught off guard.”

Yennefer let off a shuddering breath, her expression pained and tears at the edges of her eyes. Geralt reached over and enveloped her in his arms. She stiffened at first then wrapped her arms around him, took a shuddering breath and sobbed softly against his tunic. Geralt stroked at her back

“I have only ever been able to confide in Emhyr.” Yennefer whispered through silent sobs. “I was at the end of my rope, he was my last chance. I had been through so many before you, trying to let my walls down, but each time I thought I could, I pulled back, afraid. When I met you, I couldn’t believe how simple you were, I saw a conspiracy against me at every turn. My own paranoia drove me away from you time and time again, and in turn you did the same. I sabotaged our relationship because I had never been given love without a stipulation, I didn’t know what it was.”

“When I was at my end, imprisoned yet again, whipped, beaten and tortured, I gave my trust to the one man, the one enemy that had been chasing at our heels for years.” Yennefer choked against his chest. “I opened myself to him out of desperation, and when I did so what he saw there changed him. He saw in me a mirror of himself. He was contently running, constantly fearing, never trusting anyone, pushing everyone away. He was at the same point I was, though his tortures circled around him with smiles. He opened himself to me, something not even you did. Though I now know why. I saw him for who he was, truly. He was a child, Geralt. He was a lost child, barred behind the gilded cage of the empire. He has been the only man that I have trusted truly with my life.”

“I didn’t understand you truly until Vesemir told me what you went through.” Yennefer said, squeezing her arms against him tighter as Geralt stroked her hair. “Where Emhyr was a child locked behind a gilded cage, you were a child wandering the world. You were ignorant of how to function in it by design. When he told me to watch you, to keep you in check, because you held a power that was beyond imagining, I thought he was daft. He told me that after we defeated the Wild Hunt he would show me everything, tell me everything, but until that moment came, I needed to watch you, fear you, and if it came down to it…”

“Kill me.” Geralt supplied.

Yennefer sobbed again, nuzzling into his chest.

“He didn’t know that I couldn’t, I wouldn’t.” Yennefer hissed, looking up at him, her eyes puffy the violet dulled with emotion. “He didn’t make me promise that I would, and I didn’t give him an opportunity to think that I wouldn’t have. When I learned what had been done to you, what has been done to all the witchers, my heart shattered. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I pushed you away still, fought with you. I know how to handle my emotions one way, and that’s to fight. It’s been like that since I was a little girl. I don’t know how to stop the cycle Geralt.”

“All you have to do to stop it, is to trust me, Yen.” Geralt said, stroking her hair. “I am attached to Regis now, and you to Emhyr, and for both of us, it is the best thing that could have happened. I still love you Yennefer of Vengerberg, even though you have hurt me, wounded me. I will always love you, and I ask that you forgive me for hurting you over the years. Some of it was in ignorance, but the vast majority of it was purposeful, planned even. It’s a cycle I continued to feed into to try to ease my own pain. It was stupid and selfish.”

“Gods, Geralt...” Yennefer sobbed, clinging to him again and shaking. “I am sorry, I am so… so very sorry… for everything. I love you Geralt, truly I do. I trust you. I trust you with my life, father of my daughter. Forgive me for everything, for all the hurt I caused, for all the pain. Forgive me for not giving you a chance, or a choice, for underestimating you at every turn. Forgive me for being selfish, for casting you aside when you couldn’t voice what you felt. I am so sorry.”

Geralt felt his own tears trickle over at the confession and he gripped her to him. He shuddered against her and she looked up.

“You’re crying…” She wiggled her arm free and touched his cheek. “Witchers can’t cry.”

“We can,” Geralt said, half laughing into a choke as he remembered Regis’ words. “If we didn’t have tear ducts our eyeballs would stick to our eyelids. We have just forgotten how.”

Yennefer laughed into a sob, a true smile gracing her face.

“I forgive you, Geralt de Corvo Bianco.” Yennefer sighed, hugging herself against him again.

“And I forgive you, Yennefer of Vengerberg.” Geralt rumbled, squeezing her.

Geralt could feel Regis’ sad elation at what had happened. The vampire sent wave after wave of comfort and support. Geralt smiled as Dettlaff sent his support as well.

After a small time Yennefer pulled away and looked at him again as he wiped at his eyes.

“Now is the time for that honesty.” Yennefer said, looking to the door back into Fringilla’s room, wiping her eyes and nose. “I can get her to confess before Emhyr arrives, but politics demands that she be present during the moot. She is the last remaining direct relative to the duchy, she will have to be handled after the fact, and my hands are tied in this.”

Geralt felt himself sigh as he fished in his satchel at his belt and handed her a handkerchief. She took it and wiped at her eyes.

“I understand.” Geralt said. “I will leave it in your hands, but if you have need of us, I’ll have Regis send you a crow that you can keep to call for us. I am also going to put out a warning. I plan on playing Fringilla as well. The questions you will ask her to incriminate herself are not the ones I need to ask to complete my task. I need you to know that when I am interacting with her, you need to play that this conversation never happened, which I am sure should be easy. Same goes for the others around the palace. We will be stronger in the long run if people don’t realize that we can be manipulated against each other.”

Yennefer sighed.

“Agreed.” She breathed. “I have said it before and I will say it again, I would hate to see you now at court. You would be a force to be reckoned with.”

Geralt grinned and pulled her into one last hug, which she returned with a smile.

“I will see you around, Yen.” Geralt grinned, kissing the top of her head. Yennefer pulled away and stood back from him. With a motion of her hand, all the physical evidence that she had been crying disappeared, as did the wet spot on the front of Geralt’s shirt.

“See you around, witcher.” She said, her violet eyes twinkling with a life he hadn’t seen in a long time. She turned for the door and stepped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regis flew outwards and spun back, his wings pillowing and his tail scooping at the air like a brake. They slowed and approached the gate. Geralt focused and snapped his fingers. Every single torch on the property went out at once. There was a resounding cry as Regis cleared the gate and whipped his wings forward, kicking up a cloud of dust thick enough that it actually choked Geralt. Regis sneezed as he hit the ground and Geralt tumbled off his back into the dirt in front of the estate house. Regis changed forms as soon as his feet hit the ground, stumbling forwards and falling onto his knees.
> 
> Geralt could hear choked cries and yells as they scrambled to re-light the torches. Geralt pulled himself upright and snapped his fingers again, letting the magic race from them. All the torches re-lit. Regis was still on his hands and knees, panting, two large rips showing pink flesh through his tunic and gambeson. The crowd stilled as Geralt waved away the dust from his mouth and it began to settle.
> 
> “Geralt?!” Barnabas-Basil stumbled through the dust.


	36. Tarriance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regis Visits Dettlaff and learns more then he bargained for.
> 
> "“What you lack is the simple ability to ask questions, to read the world.” Regis snapped, this conversation was a long time coming. “To you everything is absolutely black and white. Right, or wrong. When you feel something is right, or is just, you will see it through to the end, supporting it brilliantly, in a way that baffles me as much as it fills me with pride and wonderment.”
> 
> Dettlaff winced, still looking down, unable to meet Regis’ critical gaze.
> 
> “But when you feel something is wrong, you destroy it utterly, without giving it more than a single critical glance.” Regis said. “That is what happened in Beauclair. You have no ability to cope with anything other than direct instruction, and when a situation that is confusing or gray comes up you just plough forward, never mind the consequences.”
> 
> Dettlaff was beside himself with regret. The vampire shuddered and folded his arms across his chest. He withdrew into himself. He was making a small high pitched noise that Regis associated with young pups in distress. Regis huffed and pulled himself over to the man and gripped his face, forcing him to look him in the eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***********
> 
> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!  
>  ****
> 
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff
> 
>  
> 
> **************  
> 
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**
> 
> Big time Hurt comfort  
> Description of injuries  
> Depictions of self harm
> 
> ****************

Regis could barely hide his mirth as he walked out of the estate house and headed down the hill for the stables. Torturing Geralt was swiftly becoming a new favorite pastime of the vampire, never mind that he was currently tucked painfully into his belt so that his amorousness wouldn’t show to those that crossed his path. He had donned his old scent, thyme, sage and mint wafted around him reminding him of times past as he approached the stables were Barnabas-Basil was standing talking to the stable hand.

“Good morning, master Faulty.” Regis greeted, smiling his tight lipped smile.

“Ah master Regis, good morn!” Barnabas-Basil was smiling. “Are you and the master of the house heading out again this morning?”

“Just me for now, though I am sure Geralt will be gracing you with his presence in short order.” Regis grinned. “I need to visit an old acquaintance of mine. Would you be so kind as to have Kirin saddle Vlad for me?”

“Certainly, master Regis.” Barnabas smiled and nodded to the stable hand who hurried to get his horse ready.

He watched the vineyard workers as they walked to and fro, excitement was building for the coming harvest. He could smell it in the air and on the sweat of the men and women who were toiling on the fields. The sheer amount of happy life around this place astounded him. Geralt was a good man to his core. No one complained about their lot, and the chatter he picked up was pleasant. He felt fondness tug at his heart now that he was amongst the hustle and bustle of life here.

When the stable hand led Vlad out he smiled and patted the horse. Vlad nosed at his hand and Regis allowed his fingers to run over the velvety fur there.

“I have sent your gambeson to town for reparations.” Barnabas-Basil was looking at a notebook and writing something furiously with a small pen. “Geralt’s armor should be repaired as well by that point and I shall send someone to fetch them on the morrow.”

“That is appreciated, Barnabas-Basil.” Regis smiled, looking to the man with the dark glasses. He felt Geralt finally regain control and felt his grin turning wolfish as he pulled himself onto the destrier’s back.

“I will see you this afternoon, master Foulty.” Regis called, guiding Vlad. “Thank you.”

The majordomo inclined his head as Regis urged the horse through the gate. He felt Geralt’s eyes on him as he left and grinned to himself.

He let Vlad know where to go in low tones, and the horse took off to the west on a well-traveled road towards the lake. Regis grinned to himself as he felt the horse’s powerful muscles tense and flex, its huge heart beating like a drum as the creature pulled itself forward. He had always had control over smaller animals, but smart animals, horses, and dogs, had always been afraid of him. He had been working himself up over the years trying to tame and control larger and smarter creatures, but Vlad was his first horse. Vlad had been afraid, at first, that if he didn’t allow Regis to ride him he would be sent to slaughter, but as they traveled together more and more, the creature flourished under his attentions, and trust formed. Now as they raced down the path, the horse shared its simple joy with Regis.

Regis had never been happier in all his days, Fringilla and the threat of vampires notwithstanding.

His reflection on the state of his current life was cut short as Geralt’s thoughts swept in, letting him know that he was planning on introducing him to the vineyard in full. He felt trepidation at the idea, and that trepidation was mirrored by Barnabas-Basil. Regis pulled back on Vlad’s reins in surprise when Geralt’s mind whirred into action. Regis found himself floored by Geralt’s revelation about Barnabas-Basil’s spying.

When he felt what Geralt intended to do, he nodded to himself, and sent his staunch approval through the bond. Regis had thought that Barnabas-Basil had taken his appearance and his vampiric nature a little too lightly, but the fact that Geralt had picked up on all of this surprised Regis to his core. Regis hadn’t picked up any hint of any sort of betrayal or secrecy from the man, something he was keen to notice due to his years of hiding. He pursed his lips and moved Vlad off the main road. If one person could hide that much from him, then others could as well. The thought made him uneasy, but he shook it from his head as Geralt confirmed with Barnabas-Basil that he wanted to remain with them as the majordomo.

That was another thing he respected about Geralt a great deal, now more so than ever. The man was always careful to ask permission, especially when it involved something severe, even in those he could easily trick.

When Geralt bit down on Barnabas-Basil’s wrist, intense pleasure washed through Regis, causing him to groan. He gripped the saddle horn and doubled over, trying to wrestle control over his body.

“You ok, Mister?” The voice shot through him like ice, and he regarded the child and his mother, walking the opposite way he was traveling. He had seen them approaching, but the road was busy with travelers, so he didn’t pay them any mind.

“Honey, it’s none of your concern.” The woman said in a hushed whisper, gathering up the boy’s hand in hers.

“Oh… its… quite alright.” Regis grunted, wincing. “Just… a spot of indigestion, thank… you for your concern, young man.”

The boy beamed up at his mother.

“You are welcome. I hope you feel better soon!” The boy and his mother toddled off, with the mother singing the child’s praises for being so kind.

The waves soon passed as Geralt solidified the thread tying himself to the man. Regis straightened out, brushed himself off, adjusted himself in the saddle, and urged Vlad forward again. He marveled at Geralt’s effortless control over all those that were tethered to him. Regis’s own connection with the bruxa he’d bitten was flimsy and weak in comparison. He pursed his lips as frustration ripped its way through the bond he had with Dettlaff.

It was apparently going to be one of those days. Regis urged Vlad forward quickly, allowing the horse once again to fly. When he arrived at the cave in which Dettlaff had gone to ground he saw his bruxa waiting for him.

“Hello, my dear.” Regis said, misting off of Vlad and coalescing in front of her. She winced.

“Hello, master.” She said, her voice almost shy.

“Please, enough with that, call me Regis.” He said, giving her Vlad’s reins. “How is he?”

The bruxa hesitated, worrying at her lip.

“He still refuses to partake.” She said. “I even offered myself to him, he refused. Said he would only speak with you about it.”

Regis snorted and shook his head.

“It’s my fault, this.” Regis sighed. “I must go and speak with him at once. Keep Vlad safe my dear, defend him as if he were an extension of myself.”

The bruxa nodded, tucking a strand of fire red hair behind her ear as she regarded the horse.

When he reached the cave entrance it was sealed with the Gharasham tribal seal over it. Regis sighed and activated the seal. Dettlaff had gone to ground here, but the sad fact was, he was in the neutral territory; because of that any Gharasham member could access the caves if the thought struck them. That thought alone set him on edge.

Several small squeaks and a pained hiss met his ears as the door fell. Several katakan pups hissed and shielded their eyes from the light streaming through the door. Regis huffed.

“What are you doing up here, you should be asleep this time of day?” Regis questioned the young pups, stepping in and allowing the cave door to shut. The excited squeals and curious chirps filled the cave as the light shut out and all went dark. Regis smoothly shifted into his bat form. It felt odd now to take this shape; even though he enjoyed flying, he still found he had associated it with death and dying. However he needed the ears on this form, as he navigated the cave using his echolocation. He chirped and let his ears catch the reverberation, and was able to create a very detailed map of the layout of the cave. The farther down he went the more surprise he felt. The katakans were following at his feet, nipping at one another and squeaking indignantly as they traveled through the winding passages.

It was a warren. The passageways led off to smaller caves where families of lesser vampires lay sleeping soundly and safely in piles with one another. Nursing kits at their mother’s teats would grumble till mom would strike her skin and let her blood intermix with the milk. Blood, milk and pheromones filled this place to the point where it was almost like being in a crowded room with everyone speaking at once. Yet almost all was silent, other than the soft snores of those resting and the chirps of the rowdy group of pups that was around Regis’ feet.

Regis could smell Dettlaff, and it was that smell that drove him forward. A faint glow began to overtake the passage as it began to open up. The glow turned into a warm light as Regis stepped through to the antechamber. The room was an awkward mix of sleeping forms, skins, beds, desks, and various other random things that had been collected by those that lived here. When he looked up he saw even more sleeping forms on the ceiling, crowded together for heat. On the far side was a large fireplace that had been built in, its flame roaring strong tended by two fleders, who awkwardly stayed some distance away, but managed to keep the fire roaring none the less. They looked to Regis, blinking and chittering softly. Beside the fire, buried in a pile of skins, was the one he was looking for.

Regis couldn’t help the excited squeak that floated out of him as he loped between sleeping bodies. A tired but equally happy set of squeaks filled his ears as Dettlaff raised himself upwards. He was in the same form Regis was. When the skins fell away Regis gasped.

Dettlaff’s bat form usually was immaculate; slick black fur, long muzzle and piercing blue eyes. What he saw before him he didn’t expect.

Dettlaff still looked horrifying. His fur was patchy gray and white and clumped together in oily groupings, and between them was raw, scarred looking skin stretched thin over muscle and bone. The saving grace were his wings, which had been hidden when he’d been taken by the Order of the Flaming Rose; they looked intact and though the muscles of his arms were thin Regis was sure he would be able to fly in this state. His steely blue eyes were still there, as bright as ever, though they looked upset. Regis could feel Dettlaff’s frustration and trepidation through the bond they shared as Regis approached.

Regis didn’t hesitate, instinct driving him forward to great his pack mate and blood brother with enthusiasm. He rubbed his cheek across Dettlaff’s and gripped onto him with his great black wings. Dettlaff leaned into the touches and sighed. A small rumbling set of grunts greeted Regis as he began to groom Dettlaff, worrying over the slick patches of skin and hair. Words were not needed right now. The stress in Dettlaff’s body slowly eased as Regis rubbed along his body, leaving his scent behind from the glands in his cheeks. He felt the bond shudder and still as relief washed over Dettlaff from the contact. Then a small inch of happiness came through, followed by a wave of sorrow that had Regis back up at the great bat’s head, nuzzling it firmly.

“I am so sorry, brother.” Dettlaff rumbled, his voice harsh and strained. “I am so sorry for everything.”

Regis felt irritation building almost instantly even as he continued to lick and nuzzle Dettlaff’s head.

“Sorry will not absolve you of what happened.” Regis rumbled back, his gentle ministrations taking the sting out of his words. “It will not bring back the mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers and children of those lives you destroyed, Dettlaff. Not a one. For that alone, forgiveness will be difficult. The memory of your attack will live long in the lives of those you have ruined.”

Dettlaff shuddered against him, and Regis let him go. With a grunt and a wince Dettlaff shifted his form and fell backwards into the pile of soft skins he was surrounded with. Regis followed suit shifting into his human form with a fluidity that had Dettlaff scoffing.

“Everything is so easy for you, Regis.” Dettlaff said, panting with just the simple effort of changing forms.

“It is not easy for me.” Regis countered, settling himself down into the skins cross-legged and studying the form splayed before him.

Dettlaff was scarred from the bottoms of his gray looking feet, to the top of his head. Long lines of slowly healing cuts lined him, both self-inflicted, and large scars by the Order of the Flaming Rose. His face looked aged, wrinkled and spotted, and his thinned hair, sticking up at odd angles, was a greasy and dusty whitish gray. Regis could smell the blood sickness on him. The same scent he had carried for years from lack of intake. Regis sighed as he saw the other vampire in his mind’s eye: healthy, robust, black hair, smooth skin. He frowned as Dettlaff looked away and embarrassment flooded the bond.

“I am hideous.” Dettlaff said softly. “Inside, and out, I am grotesque.”

Regis felt himself puffing up angrily.

“What you lack is the simple ability to ask questions, to read the world.” Regis snapped, this conversation was a long time coming. “To you everything is absolutely black and white. Right, or wrong. When you feel something is right, or is just, you will see it through to the end, supporting it brilliantly, in a way that baffles me as much as it fills me with pride and wonderment.”

Dettlaff winced, still looking down, unable to meet Regis’ critical gaze.

“But when you feel something is wrong, you destroy it utterly, without giving it more than a single critical glance.” Regis said. “That is what happened in Beauclair. You have no ability to cope with anything other than direct instruction, and when a situation that is confusing or gray comes up you just plough forward, never mind the consequences.”

Dettlaff was beside himself with regret. The vampire shuddered and folded his arms across his chest. He withdrew into himself. He was making a small high pitched noise that Regis associated with young pups in distress. Regis huffed and pulled himself over to the man and gripped his face, forcing him to look him in the eyes.

“You are absolutely allowed to stop and think, Dettlaff.” Regis’ voice was stern as he stroked Dettlaff’s face.

“But the letters said…”

“Damned what the letters said, Dettlaff!” Regis barked, gripping Dettlaff’s face tighter. “In a situation where there are lives at stake, that is the exact moment you need to most think about things! And not just for the immediate period, you need to think down the road, of the future! Cause and _effect_. _One_ _woman_ , a packmate yes, but _one_ woman none the less is not worth the lives of the _hundreds_ you ordered destroyed!”

“I hesitated at Stygga…” Dettlaff winced as Regis released him.

“That hesitation?” Regis scoffed, sitting himself up straight. “Likely saved your life, my life, as well as the lives of all of those who quickly surrounded the castle. You allowed Geralt to work, and allowed him to take that which you were after in the first place. And in the end it wound up being the best thing you could have done.”

“What if I had hesitated, waited to collect you?” Dettlaff asked, his voice pleading as his gaze turned towards Regis. “You would have been blown to bits when those blasted sorcerers came through!”

“And you would have owed me nothing.” Regis stated firmly. “I would have accepted my fate and that would have been that.”

“You say for me to think of the future in one breath, and then ignore what your own has brought since that day.” Dettlaff growled, leaning up on his elbows. “What state would your witcher be in right now had I not done what I did? He would have been dead, by my hand, left in that blasted warehouse to rot, and I wouldn’t have even blinked.”

Regis felt his heart clench painfully. Dettlaff sat up suddenly, his eyes wide with concern.

“Gods, Regis. I… I didn’t…”

“You are terrible at this, you know.” Regis’s voice had turned soft as he tried hiding his hurt behind a small smile. “We both are.”

Regis scooted over and wrapped his arms around Dettlaff, hugging the other vampire to him.

“For what it’s worth, I do forgive you Dettlaff.” Regis sighed against the other vampire’s neck. “Seeing your hurt, your pain, and then having my own brought to light, put what you did into a sharp perspective. I fear now, with the connection I have with Geralt, if similar were to happen, it wouldn’t just be Beauclair that would have to worry, but the whole damned world.”

Dettlaff breathed against him, his naked arms wrapping around Regis with a strength that was surprising.

“How do I atone for it?” Dettlaff whispered. Regis pulled away and looked at Dettlaff as the other vampire again winced and shied from his gaze.

“All you can do, is pay it forward.” Regis smiled sadly. “The best thing you can do is to improve those lives of those around you, and above all cause no harm. Morality is an odd thing, especially when we have to live by the morals of a species that is as alien to us as we are to them. You already have a step above most human men, in that you enjoy talking to, and interacting with children.”

Dettlaff smiled then and looked at Regis.

“They are small, blunt creatures, who speak their minds regardless of the consequences.” Dettlaff grinned. “Watching their joy as I create things for them is something that could sustain me through the rest of my centuries. Nothing is guarded in them, they are pure.”

“There exist those that are still pure even as adults.” Regis said. “Geralt, being one of them. His daughter, Ciri, the one you were tracking, the one that helped me rescue you from the Order, she is like this as well.”

“Wait.” Dettlaff’s eyed widened. “The girl that helped me? The witcher? She was the one that I was tracking at Stygga?”

Regis felt his brows furrowing.

“Yes, she was, I thought you knew.” Regis said, regarding Dettlaff.

“I did not.” Dettlaff grumbled, flopping backwards into the skins again, boneless and wincing. Regis stroked his hair and Dettlaff closed his eyes.

“How did you do it Regis?” Dettlaff sighed, confusion and contentment rushing through the bond. “How did you abstain…”

“I...” The question caught Regis off guard and his hand stopped. Honesty is what was needed here. “Well, I had a death wish.”

Dettlaff’s eyes shot open and he looked at Regis who was looking away, his expression pensive.

“I was prepared to die, Dettlaff.” Regis soft voice carried as he turned to look at the other vampire. “I had lost myself, lost everything, even with the advice of a dear friend I was unable to come to terms with who I was, with what I was.”

Dettlaff frowned.

“You are a vampire.” Dettlaff’s expression was confused.

Regis couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his face. It had always been like this. Dettlaff’s blunt statements and innocent way of looking at things filled Regis with a strange sort of happiness as he resumed his stroking.

“Am I though?” Regis asked smiled sadly.

“I know I am a vampire, even though the others have long shut me out.” Dettlaff said, shrugging. “Just because I don’t fit their ideal of what it is to be a vampire doesn’t change that fact. I do not find the idea of interacting with them pleasing, I never have, and in those rare occasions when I do? They could care less. I have no want to be fettered with frivolities. My time, as endless as it is, is a valuable currency to me. But that does not change what I am at my core.”

“You, despite your strange fascination with the human species are a vampire as well.” Dettlaff continued, leaning into the touch of Regis’ hand, his voice still harsh. “I know it because I can smell it, taste it in your blood, I can feel it through the bond. Just because you have no want to interact with our kin doesn’t mean that you aren’t a vampire, it just means you have a mind of your own, simple as that.”

Regis raised a brow.

“You still have not answered my question.” Dettlaff reminded, seriousness entering his tone.

“I… I have partaken in human blood, four times since we rescued you.” Regis said, sighing and slumping his shoulders.

“Only four?” Dettlaff asked.

Regis called forth the bubble to block his communication from those around them. Dettlaff gasped as the magic momentarily raced through him, and then accepted him as an inclusion.

“I said four humans.” Regis looked at Dettlaff, his eyes serious. “A mage, which Geralt took most of, a bandit, which again Geralt took most of, a foul mage which I drained myself, though I purged afterwards, and Yennefer of Vengerberg, which… was…”

Dettlaff smirked.

“Was it every bit as good as the stories suggested sorceresses should taste?” Dettlaff grinned, leaning back in the pile.

“It was that and more.” Regis sighed at the admission.

“How did he take it?” Dettlaff asked.

“It’s strange, Dettlaff.” Regis started settling himself next to his friend in the furs that smelled so much like him. “We have yet to speak of limits and boundaries, something I thought we would have to address long before now. Humans, as you well know, have a lot of hang-ups when it comes to social interaction, and even more when it comes to sharing their bodies. Geralt though, he is different.”

“We have been mated for just over a week.” Regis lowered his brows. “But, it’s different.”

“You have only experienced it once.” Dettlaff looked over to Regis and arched a brow.

“Yes, but never with this sort of ease?” Regis felt the question ringing in his ears. “He was jealous of you, you know.”

“Why?” Dettlaff lifted his head, his brows furrowing.

“He thought that you and I were together.” Regis laughed a little. “I had to explain the concept of a blood bond to him several times till he got it.”

“You never voiced that we were together?” Dettlaff asked, frowning. “So why would he think that?”

“Geralt, for his lack of humanity, is very human sometimes.” Regis grinned fondly.

They sat there for a moment in silence, Dettlaff’s breathing and slow heartbeat causing Regis to relax himself in a way he hadn’t since they had been in Nazair. He felt Geralt’s conversation between Damien and Morvran drifting through the bond. He sat up suddenly and hissed, his claws extending. Dettlaff flinched, his eyes wide as he struggled to sit upright as well.

“What is wrong?”

“She… She has been playing us all.” Regis hissed. “Yennefer…”

Dettlaff studied him for a moment before leaning back down.

“This isn’t about her.” Dettlaff said, causing Regis to balk. “I can feel it through the bond. This behavior is well within the parameters you have in your mind for her.”

Regis snorted, thinking of Barnabas-Basil and his simple way of doing things. There wasn’t any sort of deception there that he could sense. He frowned and instantly his mind was brought to Fringilla as Geralt started to think about how he would handle her.

“There, whatever you are thinking of now is the cause of the problem.” Dettlaff sighed. “Speak of it Regis.”

“Her name is Fringilla.” Regis ground out, wincing as he eased the door to the bond between him and Geralt shut enough that his feelings wouldn’t flood through.

“You have spoken of this one before, while you recovered.” Dettlaff said simply.

“The very same.” Regis groaned, throwing himself backwards again. “I told you about the task the Elder has put me up to, yes?”

Dettlaff nodded.

“Let’s start there then.” Regis said, looking to Dettlaff. “I found the vampire he has been seeking.”

Dettlaff sat up this time and twisted himself so he could see Regis.

“That is excellent! Have you informed him?”

“No, and I will not.” Regis winced, his expression becoming pained.

“Why not? Won’t that information release you from his hold?” Dettlaff asked.

“It’s much more complicated than that.” Regis said. “I know too much, you by proxy know too much… and Geralt…”

“Geralt is your mate.” Dettlaff said. “My pack bound.”

“And he is the vampire the Elder has been afraid of.” Regis looked up at Dettlaff to gauge his reaction.

The number of expressions that passed through the other vampire’s face was staggering. Dettlaff’s hands worked anxiously and his breath stilled.

“Ho…how can you be certain?”

Regis fished into his bag and found one of the small pieces of metal with the rune carved on it. He handed it to Dettlaff.

“I have so far removed three of these from his body.”  Dettlaff examined the rune stone and frowned.

“After I removed the first, he had several episodes.” Regis sighed. “He grew claws, fangs, and had extreme nightmares during which he manifested these vampiric attributes . They were small changes, subtle in the grand scheme of things that encompasses our species. At first I was only willing to entertain the idea that he had received some sort of lesser vampire mutations during his trials. He confirmed with me that they did indeed receive a small piece of albino bruxa tongue.”

Dettlaff frowned.

“If he got that, it would likely only increase his healing abilities, as their saliva is very potent when it comes to healing injuries.” Dettlaff said, looking out over the sleeping vampires around them.

“That is exactly right.” Regis nodded, sitting back upright and facing Dettlaff. “I kept my mouth shut, but when we went to the orphanage and all hell broke loose everything changed. He got bit on the neck, and the wrist. And I removed two more from both locations. His reaction was nearly instant, and it was strong, so intoxicating and erotic for me that I couldn’t even resist his suggestions. He broke my fast, and then in a way he broke me, and we formed the mating bond.”

“Is this something you wanted?” Dettlaff asked, concern radiating over the bond.

Regis chuckled slightly.

“It… shames me to admit it, but yes.” Regis voice was so soft Dettlaff had to strain to hear it. “I have never wanted anything more in my life as I did in that moment, Dettlaff. I wanted it, and I still want it. I feel like there is more, every day there is more. I feel weak to resist him, but I have never felt stronger, more centered. I crave him like I craved blood. I have had a mating bond before, a pleasant one at first, and even then, never in my life have I felt as I do now.”

“Both he and I had discussed the possibility that he was a vampire, and then we rejected it as he is still mortal.” Regis sighed.

“There is more, isn’t there?” Dettlaff asked, pulling Regis’ chin up.

“It started small.” Regis said. “We went into… what I can only consider a rut, when we got back from the orphanage. He didn’t say anything about it, but as we continued onwards his control over his mutations solidified and coalesced.”

Regis hesitated.

“He isn’t… hiding himself, Dettlaff.” Regis said, frowning.

“Meaning?” Dettlaff looked at Regis quizzically.

“His fangs have elongated and are always on display now,” Regis shuddered, the words forcing his body to react. God he loved Geralt’s fangs. “He keeps his claws, like I do. He also has another talent, a true vampiric talent that we only just discovered. Where you can control all the lesser of our species if you partake in their blood, Geralt…. He can do the same with humans, and witchers, and that brings us around to the crux of the problem.”

“Wait, he can control humans?” Dettlaff asked, confusion filtering through his voice.

“Yes, exactly like you can control our lesser kin.” Regis replied, adjusting himself slightly and trying to get his thoughts to calm down. “I actually want him to come here and talk to you about it. I find more and more that you have similar threads of interest. Oh! And his fangs! They are from the western branch, and a fine example of such.”

Dettlaff smirked.

“Then we must compare.” Dettlaff mused, his grin widening as Regis sent him a pointed look.

“Regis, something is wrong.” Dettlaff stiffened and blinked as discomfort and hunger raced through the pack bond from Geralt.

Regis quickly threw open the bond. He doubled over with bloodlust as he heard the hearts beating around Geralt. This was not the time for this to happen. He had removed the ring, gods knows why! Regis groaned and ground his teeth together before finally being able to send a thought over the bond. All the while Dettlaff looked on, concern and panic in his eyes.

_No._

Regis then flooded Geralt’s mind with all the things he was going to do to him should he fail in his quest to rein himself in. Most of them revolving around pain. Geralt didn’t have the reaction he was expecting as heat and lust raced its way through the bond. The bond was open fully and Regis groaned as his mate’s thoughts echoed back at him. He shielded his own lust from coming back through the bond as Geralt gained control.

Dettlaff reached out for Regis’ shoulders and Regis scrambled for purchase.

“What is happening?” Dettlaff asked, scenting the air and wrinkling his nose.

“He is going to form a connection with Fringilla!” Regis ground out through his teeth. “That’s why I was here! I wanted to speak to you about how to handle that. He failed the first time, and now I fear he may fail again!”

Regis was now drifting into and out of Geralt’s mind’s eye. When Geralt bared his fangs at Yennefer, Regis felt himself shift into his monstrous form. Dettlaff did the same and nipped at Regis.

“My home, Regis.” Dettlaff said through his teeth. “Behave yourself.”

“I… can’t!” Regis roared, lowering his tensing body into the furs. “Gods, Dettlaff, he is….”

Regis bucked into the skins, his whole body filled with the images Geralt was using to keep himself riled up enough to charm Fringilla. Regis choked when Geralt’s thought process broke through and the sensation faded for a moment.

“Is it always this intense?” Dettlaff asked with concern, reaching over and rubbing Regis between the shoulder blades as he panted in the fur.

“I… actually wouldn’t know?” Regis huffed. “I haven’t been away from him since we…”

Regis groaned again.

“He is driving me mad,” Regis hissed against the furs. “He insisted that we needed Fringilla under our power, and at first he tried to do it on his own and wound up getting himself charmed… again. Now he is attempting it again, this time with that power I told you about, and he is taking his damned sweet time…. Oh fuck.”

“And so, what are your options?” Dettlaff asked, still rubbing Regis’ back. The contact was not helping matters and Regis was using every ounce of willpower to keep his voice low and not call out.

“That’s the thing, there aren’t any.” Regis cursed again as he felt a wave of empathy run through him from Geralt. He was looking to Yennefer, whose face was stricken.

“Then why are you insisting that what he is doing is not the best way of going about things?” Dettlaff asked.

“He has fallen prey to her before… I…” Regis hissed again as Geralt tried to let Yennefer know he was not compromised. “He, right before I could confess the first time, got taken from me. We had just arrived in Beauclair, a romantic place the first time around. It was during the crush, when the duchy was having harvesting parties. I knew she was interested and that I had to act fast, but that shyness… my own inability to just be blunt cost me in the end. I had him in the gardens. We were talking, for once not about Ciri or Yennefer, but about us and our journey…

Regis felt his vision go white as Geralt’s fangs made contact with the woman. He threw open the bond fully to Dettlaff and Dettlaff’s eyes widened. Regis could feel the thread forming and sensed the bitter taste of the woman. He felt bile rising to his throat as Dettlaff groaned. As soon as the thread was formed, all thoughts about Regis stopped dead.

Regis was now stuck between arousal and revulsion and attempted to grasp a hold on the revulsion to clear his mind.

“Did you feel that?” Regis panted as Dettlaff looked on in wonder.

“I did, and yes, it is very similar to how I form mine, though…” Dettlaff pondered. “There seems to be an instinctual drive to it. A way to seek out those that are capable of being bound, at least in my case. I would like to speak with him further on this issue as my talent is unique among our kind, the only others that have it are the elders, and that is only because it is passed between them.”

The bond calmed as Geralt slipped back into planning mode, and spoke to Yennefer.

“What’s going on?” Dettlaff asked.

Both Regis and Dettlaff winced as pain lanced its way through both sets of bonds. Regis could smell Yennefer’s blood and started salivating.

“She just cut her hand on his fang.” Regis breathed, the coils of arousal flooding back through him at her smell. “Damned her, and damned Geralt. Damned both of them!”

Regis sucked in a breath as Geralt tasted her blood. It was clean, healthy. Geralt instantly wanted more.

“I had him in the garden.” Regis said, his nostrils flaring, and an old pain reared its head as he tried to free his mind of the intoxicating sensations he was drowning in. “I saw the look he gave me Dettlaff. I knew then. I knew it! It was just this simple, small smile, and then he blushed. He asked me ‘what will you do when this is all over….’ I reached over to grab his hand when Angoulême interrupted us and I pulled back. I never got to tell him what I wanted; he got charmed by that horrible woman.”

Regis felt a familiar despondence fill him, till he felt Geralt’s mirth and mischievousness flooding through the bond. Regis barked out a laugh, catching Dettlaff off guard.

“Now what?” The other vampire asked, frustration making its way to his voice.

“He is playing Fringilla like a lute!” Regis exclaimed, finally having the wherewithal to sit back up. “I didn’t realize he had gone in there with a true plan this time. Gods, Dettlaff, I am so thick sometimes.”

“What is he doing?”

“He is making a political move to manipulate Fringilla beyond just his control of her. Demoralizing her, while in the process, he plans to reconcile with Yennefer.” Regis grinned, watching in his mind’s eye as Geralt kneeled. When the blood hit Geralt’s lips from her palm Regis laughed, letting the feeling course through him instead of fighting it.

“Good for him.” Dettlaff said, shaking his head. Regis felt approval racing through the pack bond, and finally relaxed.

“Now to you.” Dettlaff said, regarding Regis with a frown.

Regis frowned back.

“Just a moment Dettlaff, I need to send Geralt a warning, otherwise I fear he will bite off more than he can chew.” Regis said.

Regis waited till Geralt let the pull of the blood sweep over him fully, and he collapsed onto the ground. He grinned to himself as he felt Geralt’s arousal through the bond, he knew where his thoughts were going, and knowing Yennefer’s proclivities he decided to double edge the warning.

 _Remember, you cannot touch, and I will add to it, neither can she._ Regis pulsed through the bond, and let his control wash through the bond. He knew Geralt liked to be ordered around, but didn’t realize how badly his mate wanted to be dominated until the thoughts from this morning cascaded though him. He felt his instant frustration, then his determination to hold to the order. Regis smiled and dulled the bond once more.

Dettlaff was staring at Regis, annoyance filtering through the bond.

“Can we speak now?” Dettlaff huffed.

“Yes, sorry.” Regis had the wherewithal to look sheepish.

“This bond you are sharing with him is dangerous.” Dettlaff growled, his voice earnest and pensive. “I realize that it is what it is, but by now, by all accounts, you and he should be able to separate your thoughts from one another without ill effect.”

“We can,” Regis defended as he looked out over the cavern. “The only problem is this conspiracy we are dealing with requires both of us to watch each other’s backs. I realize I haven’t been the friend I promised to be to you Dettlaff, and I am sorry. It was never my intention to let you linger here without contact. Things tend to happen quickly around him, and he is pulled in many directions. I knew this going in, but I thought I would have had time to come back to you before now. I feel negligent.”

“You _are_ negligent!” Dettlaff hissed, not hiding the hurt in his voice. “I sacrificed much for you, Regis!”

“Yes you did, and I don’t want to take that away from you.” Regis groaned. “As it stands though, something must be done to heal you quickly; I fear we need you back on your feet as soon as we can possibly manage.”

“That brings me back to the original question.” Dettlaff growled, regarding Regis as he fidgeted. “Why would you, someone who has been violently against taking any and all blood, suddenly decide to rescind that part of yourself? I always admired your fortitude, even though it caused no end of problems. You have to understand what this looks like to me. You found someone you fancied, and then all the rules you had come to make for yourself flew out the window.”

“They did, and with good reason.” Regis winced and looked back to Dettlaff, who was regarding him skeptically. “I was weak; I sustained myself on the horrifying trail of your very own limbs that you let fly around the country side as I chased you to Vizima. Old blood, and severed tissue do not a great meal make, and I was weakening. When your limbs stopped appearing I knew you had gone to ground somewhere. I stayed around, searching for any sign of you. When I finally saw that notice on the board saying the Order of the Flaming Rose had captured one of our own, I knew it was you.”

Dettlaff shuddered and Regis leaned his body into the other vampire.

“I was beside myself, I wound up expending a lot of energy trying to break in.” Regis stroked Dettlaff’s hair. “When I exhausted myself and my reserves, I wound up going into town and getting myself as drunk as I could manage. Once I was feeling all good and sorry for myself I found out about the witcher that had passed through. With the help of the village I placed a contract for a witcher. When we finally rescued you, I gave you what little I could spare, and if I am to be perfectly honest with you, I gave too much. I was so weak on that journey back I likely could have been struck down by an arrow.”

“You know what happened when we made it back.” Regis shuddered, drawing in on himself. “Again, with a death wish, I used all the last of my strength against the Elder. What you do not know, because I glossed over it the last time, was that I was submerged in human blood for close to two months.”

Dettlaff balked and looked wide-eyed at Regis.

“What do you mean?” Dettlaff asked.

“While I was being held, they killed humans; they drugged them, and let them bleed out. Hundreds of them Dettlaff.” Regis shuddered and his eyes became cold. “That’s when I learned that I have mastery over myself enough that I need not fear relapse. I did not partake, not a single drop.”

Dettlaff was looking at him with his mouth agape.

“Why did you not tell me this?” Anger flashed through the bond. “I would have…”

“You would have what?” Regis barked back. “You were recovering from being tortured, from torturing yourself. There was nothing you could do.”

Dettlaff bit at his lip and frowned. Regis’ expression softened and he nuzzled Dettlaff. Dettlaff sighed as his anger dulled.

“Being immersed in blood recovered me, recovered me beyond what I expected.” Regis spoke softly, letting the anger diffuse outwards. “I realized after he let me free, that in order to keep up my strength I would need to learn to partake once more. He was too powerful, and I, Geralt, and all of our pack are a target. I couldn’t let my stupid hang-up over becoming a drunkard be the death of us all, Dettlaff…”

“It is not stupid....” Dettlaff hissed. “You regained mastery over yourself in a way that no other of our kind has, or if they have they have perished! If our kind did not ingest blood, we would age as humans do…”

“Yet our children wouldn’t thrive without their mother’s blood, Dettlaff.” Regis looked to Dettlaff sadly. “I am no longer going to tout the line of abstinence, it is foolish and a risk I am no longer willing to take.”

“How did you start again?” Dettlaff asked quietly.

“Geralt.” Regis frowned and Dettlaff raised a brow. “When his vampiric aspects activated, they was powerful. I did as I was asked, and I drained that poor bruxa and made a half formed bond with her, then, I almost lost him to bloodlust. Then, he made me bite him.”

Dettlaff stiffened.

“When he went after the mage again I… felt the need.” Regis ground out, blood rushing to his face. “He didn’t give me the option of saying no. He had a mouth full of her blood and shared it with me. She tasted awful, but it had been so long that it was like eating the most tender leg of lamb you could imagine. Then…”

“Then what?” Dettlaff was now hanging onto every word.

“We partook in one another.” Regis looked down, a shiver of excitement running through his body at the memory.

“So you are saying if I had fallen in love with you, you wouldn’t have fought me?” Dettlaff asked, a small grin finding its way across his face.

Regis scoffed, a smirk creeping across his face.

“You know as well as I do that you have no physical attraction to me, despite my charming looks.” Regis raised a brow. “Though to be perfectly honest, had you actually made intentions known, I likely wouldn’t have said no. I owed you a great deal, and it was much to my dismay that you rescued me only out of the goodness of your heart and without an ulterior motive.”

Dettlaff laughed, and then a wave of unbridled anguish washed through the bond.

“I want it to stop hurting, Regis.” Dettlaff curled in on himself. “I still feel it, even though she is dead by my hand. I still hurt. I thought it would get better, that it would go away, but it didn’t.”

Regis looked at Dettlaff sternly.

“You deserve love, Dettlaff,” Regis comforted, curling himself around the other vampire, “and what she did with you was not love; it was one sided and horribly cruel.”

Dettlaff let off a sob and turned against Regis, his ill and injured form seeking out comfort. Regis held him. The tears finally flowed. Regis cradled Dettlaff, chirping and saying soft words till he quieted somewhat.

“It will always hurt.” Regis whispered into the white wisps of hair. “Always, without fail. But over time, it will change, it will become tolerable. You will heal, and grow, and one day you will find yourself looking back to it, acknowledging its existence, and the hold it once had on you, and you will know that you surpassed it, that you traversed it, and it is in the far distance, but a landmark to look back on. Right now though, you need to grieve, properly. You loved her. Your love for her killed the shadow she had created of herself.”

“I didn’t want to do it.” Dettlaff sobbed, causing Regis to look down to the weeping vampire. “I didn’t want to; he said it was the only way.”

“Who said?” Regis felt his muscles tighten.

“The Elder.”

Regis was glad he had blocked off the bond between himself and Geralt. White hot fury laced through him with such a force that Dettlaff actually trembled against him and cried out.

“I wasn’t to tell you!” Dettlaff howled. “But I can’t keep it in any longer! I can block myself off from him as solidly as you can and I have been, he made me do it, Regis! He said that in order to keep you safe and recovering I needed to kill her, and then, I was to kill Anna Henrietta. To finish what I had started, the last of the orders sent by my beloved Rhenawedd. I… I couldn’t. When I killed Rhena, I thought my life was forfeit. I went prepared to fight you and Geralt to the death. When Geralt spared me… I just… I couldn’t…”

Regis couldn’t form words. The bond was fully open, and Dettlaff was speaking the truth. Regis let the cold fury find a spot inside of him and held it there. He would need to speak with Geralt about this face to face. His body kicked with anger as his arms tightened around Dettlaff, who was now howling against Regis’ tunic, his body shuddering and his claws digging into Regis in his efforts to ground himself.

“Yes, let it all out, Dettlaff.” Regis said, watching as the vampires around the cave all began to stir.

Regis perked up as Geralt suddenly nudged the bond to the forefront. Regis stiffened.

“Do you feel that Dettlaff?” Regis said in wonderment. “He is healing the rift between them.”

Regis and Dettlaff focused in on the bond between Regis and Geralt, and Regis felt elation. Dettlaff sniffed and shuddered, sending his support as well.

“At least someone is doing right.” Dettlaff choked. The sudden feeling of a soft paw on Regis’ leg caused him to look up. Vampires, large and small, were approaching them, swarming them. Dettlaff groaned as a chilled damp muzzle poked him on the back. The vampires had stirred. Called forth by Dettlaff’s distressed state. Dettlaff choked a laugh as one of the katakan pups which had been traveling around Regis’ feet settled himself up against Dettlaff’s side.

They were surrounded, and Regis was in awe. He had never seen this behavior before outside of packs. He felt Dettlaff’s troubled metal state ease as the soft chitters and chirps surrounded them.

“Dettlaff, this is amazing!” Regis was awed as he was pressed against the ailing vampire. “Are you causing them to do this?”

Dettlaff sighed, the last of his sobs dying away as he allowed his familiars to nuzzle and groom him.

“I am not.” Dettlaff sniffed miserably. “They know I have been ill and in poor spirits. I do not hold them against their will. Never have. Most of them are rescues. I have been collecting them since I was young. I never showed you because I know how much you dislike our kind, I was afraid you would reject them, then reject my help.”

Regis took a better glance at the adults who were now clinging together amongst one another and falling into piles close to the furs. He took a deep breath and started relaxing almost instantly. Calming pheromones were being released by all the vampires present. Regis frowned.

“Why is there no record of this behavior from them?” Regis asked as Dettlaff shifted against him. The little ones were calming and falling into groups. The heat became intense as more bodies piles onto one another.

“I do not know the answer to this question.” Dettlaff sighed and nuzzled into one of the pups that squeaked sleepily. “They are intelligent, the lesser of our species. More so than we give them credit for. One of the many reasons I was ostracized, was because I could understand them. Most of the ones here have been wounded or are the offspring of those wounded and killed by monsters, other vampires, or the witchers.”

Regis winced.

“Do not feel badly, Regis.” Dettlaff smiled and started stroking the katakan pups. “You know as well as I do that a lesser vampire that ventures into human territory has one of three things wrong with them. They are either mentally impaired and cannot hunt properly, they are injured and cannot hunt, or they have somehow managed to get a hold of human blood. The addictive properties and the drug like state it induces hits them so much harder than us; normally when one gets a hold of a human, they fly into a frenzy, then get ill afterwards.”

“They need blood like us though.” Regis said, stroking the soft fur of a small female who had curled up beside him.

“They need the magic in it, yes.” Dettlaff said simply. “They just need so much less of it, that they can hunt animals of this world, and get what they need to survive and thrive.”

“How do they all survive in such large numbers here?” Regis wondered. “And without a dip in the local wildlife population?”

“This is but a small sampling of the amount I have in my thrall.” Dettlaff smiled out at the throng. “The others go out and hunt and bring blood home to the warren. They travel far enough away that there are trade lines, exchanges that happen. Come nightfall this place fills as parents feed one another, and feed their whelps. When I said I would raze Beauclair to the ground, I could have done it in a single night.”

Regis shuddered.

“How many others know of the extent of your power, Dettlaff?” Regis asked softly, looking at his blood brother in astonishment.

“None, I have hidden it.” Dettlaff answered, his eyes becoming harsh. “They do not deserve to know.”

“No, they do not.” Regis mused thoughtfully.

“There are other things Regis, important things.” Dettlaff nuzzled up against Regis, his body tensing.

“They act as my spies.” Dettlaff breathed quietly. “I have heard things, seen things I should not have seen.”

“What sort of things? “Regis asked, pulling himself up straight.

“The Elder, he is on the move.” Dettlaff’s voice was quiet. “For all those years he spent guarding the door to our world, now he’s finally come out into this one. There have been talks amongst those that are closest to him. They say that he has a lover, has had one for quite some time.”

“A lover?!” Regis couldn’t help his voice raising. “Who could love him? Orianna??”

“No.” Dettlaff said. “There are rumors of her as well. She is not his lover. No, his lover has only arrived recently. The humans are planning a moot, and vampire kind has a stake in it, as this is our landing point. According to the rumors the lover is supposed to negotiate on the vampire’s behalf to broker a deal with whoever the new leader is.”

“And yet no one has seen this lover?” Regis felt an uneasy threat in the back of his mind.

“He keeps her secret and hidden from all.” Dettlaff spat. “We need to find out who this is, Regis.”

Dettlaff sat up, dislodging one of the pups and causing it to tumble on top of its brothers.

“You will do no such thing.” Regis said, frowning as Dettlaff winced. “You are recovering.”

“I need to recover faster then.” Dettlaff growled, flexing his claws.

Regis saw his opportunity.

“Dettlaff, you need to drink.” Regis caught the other vampire’s gaze. “We need your help, and you need to recover your full strength. I am nearly recovered, and will likely continue to gain strength as I teach Geralt to hunt properly. I drew from him deeply last night, specifically because I knew I would likely be seeing you soon. I can spare, I have enough, and I can get more.”

Dettlaff looked to Regis with glistening eyes.

“You would not think me a failure if I wanted to partake again?” Dettlaff’s voice was small but his ice blue eyes hopeful.

“No, if anything I would count you ahead of myself, as I still find myself struggling with the whole idea, though I try.” Regis scoffed at himself. “Were it not for Geralt I wouldn’t even be attempting. But no killing humans for now. And no hunting within the Elder’s valley, Geralt has it in his mind to claim the whole of the neutral lands as his.”

“That would mean war!” Dettlaff shouted, causing the vampires to squeak and growl around him.

“It already is war.” Regis’ expression was determined. “The Elder has gone too far and must be dealt with. He has been manipulating all of our kind. He will pay for what he did to me, for what he did to you, for what he is doing to all of us.”

“What are you planning Regis?” Dettlaff hissed, his expression becoming dangerous.

“I do not know yet what I plan to do.” Regis frowned, looking out at all the vampires. “All I do know is the cycle needs to stop. Do you stand with me?”

Dettlaff hesitated, looking at all of his charges in their various stages of sleep. Determination washed over his features.

“This is one of those things we need to think about, don’t we?” Dettlaff asked, turning back to Regis. “I stand with you. But I am also going to take your advice to heart and ruminate on this. I wish to know more, and I know you have only set aside a small part of time for me. I wish you to return to talk to me further about this.”

“The Elder, there is something wrong with him.” Regis frowned. “Something deep that has been hidden under this persona he has created for himself of wanting to just go home. We will have to move quietly, softly. I am going to have to go back to the enclave. I have been given free rein of the place to help in my hunt for the ‘vampire’ and Orianna. As soon as I have more information I will share it.”

Dettlaff nodded.

“Now to you, my friend.” Regis said grinning. “Let me warn Geralt what is about to take place, he is currently on Roach and on route to the tourney grounds to sign up for that tournament that will happen when the Emperor arrives.”

“The Emperor is coming here?!” Dettlaff balked “Why?”

“He will come to name the successor to Toussaint’s throne.” Regis explained. “Anna Henrietta has been imprisoned while you were away. That’s what the moot is about.”

“I feel blind right now.” Dettlaff groused. “Yes, let’s get this over with, help me speed my healing. I need to know what’s going on out there.”

Regis nodded and closed his eyes, and opened the bond fully again.

 _He stands with us, Geralt._ Regis sent through the bond.

The happy surprise that roiled through the bond from Geralt’s end made Regis smile.

 _That is great news, I was worried._ Geralt sent back. _How is he?_

 _He needs to recover, quickly._ Regis shot back. _He has not recovered nearly enough, I need to share my blood with him, and I will speak with you of a plan I have to help facilitate his healing as well._

He could feel Geralt groan through the bond.

 _I am not going to like this, am I?_ Geralt shot back.

 _No more than I liked the idea of you putting Fringilla under your thrall, only this time it’s with an ally._ Regis shot back, starting to feel bemused. _Are you in a safe place?_

 _Getting off Roach as we speak, stopping by the lake to take a piss._ Geralt said through the bond. _If nothing else, any of the people around will just think I have a bad stomach issue if I fall over._

Regis couldn’t help but laugh.

 _This will be intense, I am warning you now, you will feel it as I do._ Regis said, trepidation entering his thoughts. _I warned you of the nature of these exchanges. It will be_ overwhelming _for both of us._

 _You have been putting him through part of our exchanges._ Geralt shot back. _Yeah, he has been mostly unresponsive, but I know what happened when we formed the pack bond._

A new edge entered the bond, Geralt was still flustered from this morning and Regis started grinning wickedly. He felt Geralt get settled, and Regis turned to Dettlaff.

“I don’t like the way you are smiling.” Dettlaff said, his scent thickening.

Regis just chuckled and shifted Dettlaff so that the other vampire was at his neck. He felt Dettlaff’s breath hitch as Regis laid his hand on the back of his neck.

“Drink, brother.” Regis whispered.

There was no preamble or hesitation. Regis called out when Dettlaff’s fangs pierced the flesh there. Regis bucked up against Dettlaff as he growled against his neck. The feeling was overwhelming. Foremost was the feeling of helping a pack member and a blood brother recover. It was enthralling. Regis had only ever been on the receiving end of this care, now that he was on the other side, he could see where Dettlaff and his Humanist friend would be wary the first time. Dettlaff’s poison raced through him, causing a cascade of sensations. Regis held him firm as he drew, slowly, purposefully. Reveling in his first taste of Regis’ blood in over a year.

Regis could feel Dettlaff’s reaction through the bond. And then he could feel Geralt’s. The three of them began a feedback loop that built up. Regis hissed when Dettlaff closed his arms around his back and thrust against him. He was still nude, and the only thing separating their cocks was the thin fabric of Regis’ trousers. He relayed the feeling to Geralt who sent back his own. Geralt was in pain, he still wasn’t touching himself, as per Regis’ order. Regis grinned wickedly and pressed Dettlaff’s head into his neck.

Orgasm washed over all three at once, Geralt with never having touched himself. Dettlaff pulled off of Regis’ neck and howled. Regis had the wherewithal to look around the cavern as he recovered. It had set off a chain reaction among all the mated pairs. Regis watched in fascination as the other vampires in the cavern were swept up in Dettlaff’s pleasure. When Dettlaff began to calm he licked at Regis’ neck to close his wounds. Regis felt weakened but happy.

“That… was not what I was expecting.” Dettlaff panted. “But gods… I can feel it. I can taste his blood just as much as yours, Regis.”

“He is something else, isn’t he?” Regis grinned, wiping away the mess Dettlaff had made on his trousers.

 _Fuck you both._ Geralt roiled through the bond, though there was a good natured edge to it. _Fuck all vampires, and fuck whoever gave me this damned mutation._

 _I am glad you enjoyed it._ Regis grinned.

Regis stole a glance at Dettlaff as he panted. Color was beginning to fade back into his skin. Not a lot, but enough that he no longer looked like stone. Some of the lesser irritated looking cuts started to fade, but the damage overall was immense. It would take more than just what Regis gave to recover the vampire.

“Tell Geralt ‘thank you’.” Dettlaff sighed, sleepiness swiftly filling the bond. “I… must rest now.”

“Thank you, Dettlaff, for all you did for me when I was recovering.” Regis said, stroking his hands through Dettlaff’s white hair.

“Mmmm.” Dettlaff snuggled into the furs. “Come back to me soon, Regis. We shall talk more.”

Sleep came over Dettlaff, just like that. Regis smiled and pulled himself out of the nest.

It was time to go home to Corvo Bianco… to face the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s going to be unpopular, but this fic has Regis and Dettlaff as blood brothers. The vampire’s sociaty is set up a smidge different, due to my headcanon, so sex and sexual things are not near as taboo as us… their one saving feature IMHO.


	37. Bourrée

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt announces Regis to the vinyard, and an unexpected guest arrives.... heh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!  
>  **  
> **  
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff
> 
> Also I live for your guy's comments. Lets me know folks are about!
> 
>  
> 
> **************  
> 
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**  
>  BDSMish in this chapter  
> minor breath play  
> Domming Regis  
> Orgasm delay  
> Orgasm denile  
> ruined orgasm  
> mention of subspace  
> Subspace drop and aftercare  
> Regis is a nerd
> 
>  
> 
> ****************

When Geralt arrived back at the estate he was drained. Kirin, the stable hand, met him and took Roach to be brushed down. He had quickly stopped by the tourney grounds to put his name on the lists, and wound up dropping “of Rivia” off his name, replacing it with “Corvo Bianco.” It wound up being a minor fiasco because Geralt had yet to create a coat of arms for his house, and tradition dictated that he have one. He wound up having to pull the “Dhu Evn'gesaen” amulet out of his pocket yet again, because the Emperor and Morvran both wanted him to attend and compete. The man had sputtered, but Geralt didn’t care, he had signed up and that was that. He would create a coat of arms when he had the chance.

As promised, lunch was ready and laid out under a lovely tent in the gardens; Geralt fell on it like a starving man. Regis had yet to leave Dettlaff’s cave, and was more or less still half way blocked off from Geralt. This was fine. Geralt knew he would come back when he was ready. He knew Dettlaff needed to recover, and Regis liked to fuss over those that were wounded. Judging by Regis’ reactions to the other vampire Dettlaff was still bad off, something he felt a twinge of guilt about. Geralt sighed and enjoyed some watered wine to wash down his mid-day meal, then stood up and headed to the house to get changed.

True to his word B.B had covered everything up, and the noise within the house was nearly deafening, as shouts, saws, and hammers were working with speed and the work crew was continuously coming, going and grunting as they lifted heavy materials. The floor was littered with dust and refuse as the door to the new bathing chamber had been cut through the main room. When Geralt entered his room he was surprised to see his own furniture covered as well, and a door to the bathing chambers being built. He balked.

This wasn’t in the original plan, but he felt himself smiling all the same. It was a thoughtful addition, especially now that he had a mate that would like privacy from time to time. He quickly shooed the workers that had been in his room out for a moment, and changed clothes to his field clothes. A simple slightly stained white tunic, and a pair of brown thick twill pants that stopped right below his knee, and left his calves exposed. Then he put on his field boots over a pair of wool socks, which were lower cut, than his usual armored ones. He grinned, strapped his swords to his back, tied his hair up into a messy knot and headed outside.

Before he made it down to the fields his lead field hand caught him, Markus was his name. A gruff middle aged man with a kind face and a salt and pepper beard. He stood much shorter than Geralt, but he was a warm man, and his blue eyes twinkled when he saw Geralt.

“Ah, master Geralt, I saw you approach on Roach.” He said, his voice soft but gruff. “Master Foulty said you would be coming home around noon. He went to town to fetch your armor from master Lafargue, and run a few errands. He said you planned on having a fire tonight and treating the workers.”

“Yes I do, and yes I am.” Geralt smiled at the man and patted him on the back. “I can smell it even from here. Those grapes are ready.”

Markus grinned like an idiot.

“We are still inspecting them, would you care to lend your nose?” The man asked, running a hand through his close shorn hair.

“Of course.” Geralt grinned, following the man down into the fields from the path. The workers all waved as he approached, most were inspecting the grapes and removing the ones that had been fouled by insects and birds. Others were setting up baskets at the edges of the fields, while the woman folk and children weaved more baskets and did laundry, chatting happily amongst each other. God, Geralt had missed this.

They started going row by row, marking the grapes that were ready, according to Geralt’s nose, with a dash of chalk white paint on the vine. Those that were not quite there yet would be left to continue their growth, which would get quicker as the ripe ones were picked. The afternoon was warm and pleasant, with light clouds rolling through the sky and a small breeze filtering through the vineyard. The perfect day.

Geralt was filled in on the comings and goings of his workers in the past two weeks by Markus as they weaved their way back and forth amongst the vines on the hill. The inspection turned into work as a hand cart that had been used to haul barrels had lost its wheel.

He couldn’t help but smile as he worked, occasionally stopping to play with the children around him and to keep them out of mischief. No one here looked at him with fear. He felt his mind relaxing into its eased state. The afternoon after the inspection was spent applying a new wheel to the cart, and inspecting all the others for anything that needed to be fixed before the harvest began in earnest.

Several men broke off from the field and on Geralt’s instruction began to build the vats for the pigéage. Several smaller ones were already built, but he knew there would be a celebration at the vineyard with all the eligible women hoping to attract potential suitors. It would be an open event; he would have to get Barnabas-Basil to send out invitations to the neighboring vineyards. He had attended several events like this before, with the one before last being here in Toussaint with Anna Henrietta and Fringilla Vigo. He planned on making more memories, fonder memories this time.

He wound up stripping off his shirt at some point during the afternoon and allowed the sun to bake his pale skin. The workers were singing a song as they worked, and Geralt joined in the merriment. He was so distracted by hammering the vat together alongside his men that he didn’t realize Regis had gotten back, till heat flashed through the bond and it fully opened once more.

Geralt looked up and saw Regis looking down the hill at him. Geralt instantly abandoned what he was doing and the men watched him, including Markus. He jogged up the hill, and it was like seeing Regis again for the first time.

“Welcome home, bat.” Geralt said, sweeping into Regis. Without a care he kissed his lover, who smiled and eagerly returned the kiss. Love and contentment flooded through the bond. The scent of rain washed over Geralt and his day was complete. When he pulled away Regis had flushed.

“How was the trip?” Geralt asked, clasping his arm. Regis peaked around his shoulder to the workers, who had stopped working. Markus had dropped his hammer and was staring unabashedly, his face cherry red with an expression of surprise on his face. Several of the workers’ children giggled and ran past them singing a children’s song about kissing.

“Seems as though we made an impression.” Regis chuckled nervously as trepidation raced through the bond. Geralt would have none of it and stroked his cheek, putting his forehead to the vampire’s.

“They will know more soon enough, as I said before, not hiding this. Neither should you.” Geralt hummed, sending contentment and a push of protection through the bond. “This is your home, with me. This is our home.”

He felt, more than saw, Regis smile as he rubbed his cheek against Geralt’s before pulling away.

“The trip was fine, Geralt,” Regis’ hesitation blasted through the bond. “However I learned something dire that has saddened me greatly. I would like to speak of it later to you, but right now I am drained, I think I am going to take a small amount of respite before I head down to the labs to try and start analyzing whatever that fluid is the Elder gave me, and ruminate on what Dettlaff has told me.”

Geralt nodded, and felt concern edging into his thoughts.

“Do not worry Geralt; it’s nothing that is in dire need of attention, just an addition to the long list of wrongs.” Regis smiled sadly. “Go, I can feel your enjoyment. I think I will grab a book and watch the show.”

Geralt smiled, the tips of his fangs just visible below his lip. Regis shuddered as heat raced through the bond, returning his smile before turning towards the house.

Geralt plodded back to the workers. All of them except Markus had resumed work.

“Problem?” Geralt asked, approaching the man, who shook his head and shied away from his gaze.

“Oh… oh no… it’s nothing.” Markus fumbled his words as he reached over to grab the hammer he’d lost.

Geralt eyed the man and was about to scent him when another one of his workers ran up. A first generation half-elf, who was lanky, had crystal blue eyes, and pointed ears. Geralt remembered this man approaching him for work. His name was Cardinal and he was ex-military, just looking for a place to stay. Cardinal had a water skin and handed it to Markus.

“Hello, master Geralt.” Cardinal said. Geralt nodded and smiled at him. When Markus looked at the half-elf, who wasn’t paying any sort of attention and was distracted by his belt, Geralt scented them both. His expression turned mischievous.

“Hmm, I see.” Geralt’s voice was coy as he turned to the vat, smiling to himself.

“See…. See what?” Markus asked, taking a deep draw of the water. Geralt turned and looked at his foreman, and then to the half-elf, and back again. Markus’ face turned a solid shade of crimson and he squeezed the skin of water too tightly, sending water everywhere, splashing Cardinal in the process. The half-elf made a noise of disgust and cursed.

“Watch what you are doing!” He groused, then handed his own skin to Markus who was choking and sputtering. “Now I have to go back to the well.”

The half-elf left with a snort and Geralt laughed. Markus settled himself and approached the large vat once more. Geralt was still grinning as they resumed work.

When they tipped the large vat onto its side and began to wax the interior Regis had re-joined them and was sitting under a tree, his feet bare and a god awful straw hat he had collected from somewhere resting on his head. He had a book in his hands, and was half reading and half watching Geralt work. When Markus noticed he smiled.

When waxing was finally done, the whole crew of workers and Geralt rolled the large vat up the hill and placed it in front of the entrance to the cellar. As they rolled passed Regis, Geralt smiled. His mate had fallen asleep with the hat across his face and the book tucked against his side. They resumed building the stand and the ladder that led up to the vat as the afternoon crawled onward.

Regis had woken from his nap and plodded past Geralt, who was up on the top of the vat securing the ladder. The vampire smiled wickedly and send a blast of lewd imagery to Geralt as he passed, causing Geralt to nearly fall into the vat.

“Hey, no fair!” Geralt called after Regis as his lover disappeared into the tunnel leading to the cellar and alchemy lab. The echoing laughter of the vampire was all the response Geralt got, causing him to smirk. Shortly thereafter the smell of familiar brewing hit Geralt’s nose as the men’s voices began to rise in song once more.

By late afternoon the workers had begun bringing more vats up from the cellar and began bringing up empty wine barrels. The whole of the field workers had joined them along with the women, who stood beside their men. Tools were brought out, the aged wood was brought up from the cellars, and the sound of sawing wood and laughter filled the air. Several fires were lit as the men and women of the vineyard began to create the barrels. Hammering filled the air and voices chatted back and forth.

Geralt was drawn into and out of conversation as he helped, rolling the barrels to the hand lathe, that up to that point had been covered and gathering dust and spiders at the small workshop beside the stables. Markus turned the crank of the lathe as Cardinal worked the barrels, hand creating the bevel needed to be able to close them up.

All told, only about ten barrels were near completion when Barnabas-Basil pulled up with two carts and a rented team of horses. The majordomo smiled at the hustle and caught Geralt amidst the thick of it helping Cardinal load another barrel onto the lathe.

“Ah, master Geralt!” Barnabas-Basil said, hopping down off the cart. “I bring tidings from commander Voorhis. He has written you a formal apology letter and has sent the first shipment of Sangreal you were supposed to receive!”

Geralt felt gob smacked and called out to Regis through the bond.

Regis came running out of the cellar, his goggles pulled up into his hair, his shirt and fingers stained.

“What’s the matter, Geralt?” Regis asked in a panic as he looked around.

“Look what we have!” Geralt exclaimed as the workers murmured and parted for them. Geralt hefted himself up onto the cart and opened the back. He pulled one of the barrels down off of it, as his workers crowded around.

“Give me a tap!” Geralt excitedly called. One of the workers quickly passed him a tap as Barnabas-Basil came around excitedly. Geralt took the hammer that had been hanging at his belt and tapped the barrel.

He opened the spigot and let the wine pour out. Cupping his hands he quickly scooped some up and took a taste. He melted. This was the best Sangreal he had tasted. A fantastic vintage, only bittered slightly by the dust on his hands.

“Hurry, Regis taste! You too, B.B!” Geralt grinned, licking at his fingers and wiping them on his trousers.

Regis bent down and tasted it. His eyes closed and a shudder ran through him. Barnabas-Basil saw his reaction and hurried to do the same.

“God’s, Geralt, this is extraordinary!” Regis huffed. “The spices, the hints of blood orange, this is superb, absolutely superb.”

When Barnabas-Basil backed off, his hands dropping, Regis dove in for another taste.

Geralt laughed.

“Come on everyone, have a taste!” Geralt called across the workers. “Work is done for the day, we must prepare for tonight! Come!”

Geralt ushered his workers forward as a cry of elation went throughout the crowd.

“Geralt, I do believe this is one of the best wines I have ever tasted.” Barnabas-Basil sighed happily, licking off the tips of his own fingers as the workers crowded and began tasting.

“How many barrels?” Geralt asked.

“He said sixteen, and that he would be ordering more sent every few months.” Barnabas-Basil said. “He said specifically that this batch is one of the best vintages, and that they had found a storehouse in the castle where there were more barrels than he knew what to do with.”

“Let’s tap a few for tonight, B.B!” Geralt said, slapping Barnabas-Basil on the back and smiling. “Let’s get a tub to the house, the workers have stopped for the day, send two barrels with them as well, for a job well done.”

Barnabas-Basil looked at him flabbergasted.

“Do you know how much a single bottle of this would cost? Never mind a barrel!” Barnabas-Basil’s expression was absolutely floored as the workers began to laugh and chat amongst themselves, taking a taste of the wine and then floating over to family and friends.

“What is wine if it is not shared amongst those who matter most B.B?” Geralt shot back with a grin. “Come, let’s get a tub to the house, I am filthy.”

“I have to go back down, Geralt.” Regis said, turning to the cellar. “I will join you in short order, I have some things brewing and I have… well, you know what in the centrifuge, processing.”

Geralt nodded and laughed, turning back to his majordomo.

“Geralt, are you absolutely sure about this?” Barnabas-Basil asked, his eyes still wide. “Not that I don’t want it mind you, but Sangreal!”

“Barnabas-Basil, I have never been so sure about anything.” Geralt said, looking out at his workers. “Get the tub to the house and tap four of the barrels. That should be more than enough.”

“As you wish, Sir.” Barnabas-Basil smiled.

Geralt hurried to the house as the whistle went up and the workers began to move. There was still a group at the barrel, and everyone was in great spirits. Organized chaos began as Geralt went into the house and a delicious smell led him to the closed kitchen door. He was about to open it when the door flung open and Marlene blocked his path.

“Geralt de Corvo Bianco,” Marlene called, mischievousness in her voice. “You are forbidden from entering till we are finished. I heard your slinky steps coming from a mile off. You stay out there!”

“But…” Geralt tried to look over the small woman, but she pushed him into the hallway.

“No buts, master witcher.” She huffed, turning. “You will wait.”

Geralt laughed as his stomach growled.

“I left you a small tasting plate in your room as well as some water, drink up.” Marlene said and the door was once again closed. Geralt chuckled and went towards his rooms. Barnabas-Basil came through the front door with another group of women who made a beeline for Geralt’s room.

“The men are on their way with a tub, they are going to dust so that you and Regis can sleep and bathe in comfort.” Barnabas-Basil said, hurrying into the room and gathering the sheets off the furniture himself, bundling them up.

“B.B, when you set up the bonfire and the lamps, leave them unlit.” Geralt said as he entered his room, unstrapping his baldric and letting the swords slip from his back.

“Sir?” Barnabas-Basil asked, looking at Geralt as he gathered the last of the sheets while the women made short work of dusting.

“This is going to be a night of revelry and revelations.” Geralt said cryptically as the women hurried out, tittering to themselves and making small bows to Geralt. “Let’s make it a night to remember for all, regardless of the outcome.”

The tub was rolled in.

“I am still not so sure about what you plan to do.” Barnabas-Basil confided quietly as the men laid the tub down, and began bringing buckets of water to fill it. “I am not sure it is the best of ideas.”

“I will offer them what I offered you.” Geralt said, taking an equally soft tone. “I will not fault those that wish to leave, especially since feelings are still running high from the night of long fangs.”

Barnabas-Basil shook his head.

“You are putting yourself in a precarious position.” Barnabas-Basil’s voice was serious. “You plan on starting the harvest tomorrow, which means we will begin pigéage in the next few days after the crush. We will need everyone that we have to complete this task.”

“We will manage B.B, even if it means I have to call my friends here to help.” Geralt said, putting his arm on the man’s shoulder. “I told you earlier today that a lot was going to change, and quickly; they have to know what they are getting into, it would be unfair otherwise. Regis is a vampire for Melitele’s sake, and who knows what the hell I am anymore. We are attracting trouble. I just want them to know, though this may turn horrible and quickly.”

Barnabas-Basil sighed.

“I hate that as we finally get this place functional it may fall apart.” Barnabas-Basil fiddled with his cuff on the wrist Geralt had bitten. “But will heed your demands. I don’t like it, but we have a good group of workers here who are happy, and we do have more waiting in the wings if necessary, but who we have here now? – this vineyard has never had before. Ah, but now is not the time to dwell on such things. I must get outside to help set up. Do you need anything else, Sir?”

Geralt squeezed the man’s shoulder.

“Thank you for worrying B.B, it means the world to me.” Geralt smiled.

“There is one thing I would like to request.” Barnabas-Basil said softly, looking suddenly nervous.

“Anything, B.B.” Geralt said.

“My sister married a lesser noble in Darn Dyffra, I haven’t seen her in years, I have been unable to.” Barnabas-Basil said. “When Midenvine comes, I would like to request a month’s leave to go visit her. We have been exchanging letters quite often as of late, and my niece is about to come of age. I would like to see her again.”

Geralt’s eyes lit up.

“Of course, B.B.” Geralt said, watching as the man’s eyes lit up and his shoulders sagged with relief. “Do you have a recommendation for someone who could serve temporarily in your stead?”

“Markus Boykin.” Barnabas-Basil said without hesitation. “I have been introducing him to the running of daily tasks for a while now, and I do believe he would be able to serve aptly in my stead.”

Geralt nodded, smiling.

“A good choice.” Geralt said. “I like that man.”

“Now, I do have tasks to attend to.” Barnabas-Basil said, straightening and brushing himself off. “I left Regis’ clothes on the bed for him.”

Geralt walked him to the door and looked to the west. He placed his hand to the horizon, his eyes contracting with the harsh light; it was an old witcher trick. When it was close to sunset you could count the minutes in fifteen minute increments by the width of your fingers.

“Will an hour be enough?” Geralt looked out at the vineyard. Tables had already been placed and people were running around, making quick decorations and hanging lamps.

“It should be, master Geralt.” Barnabas-Basil smiled, then strode out into the chaos.

When Geralt finally settled in the tub he had heated and laced with oils, he sighed, allowing his own trepidation to leak through the bond for the first time. He undid the messy knot at the back of his head and quickly washed his hair and his body of the sweat and dust from the day. He heated the tub as hot as he could stand it and relaxed into the water. He could hear voices and footsteps coming from behind his door and after a while the scent of food began to filter into his room with a thickness that made his stomach constrict. He felt Regis finish up in the lab and sighed.

When the vampire finally joined him in his room the noise outside had reached a fever pitch and there was laughter filtering through the door.

“It’s chaos out there Geralt, pure organized chaos.” Regis huffed and misted out of his stained clothing without preamble. “You can’t imagine how hard it is to work when your workers are banging and barging into the cellar. It’s a wonder I got as far as I did with the little time I could spend.”

“Come in, cranky bat.” Geralt said, shifting a bit in the tub. “Let me wash your hair and you can relax for a few minutes.”

Regis flopped into the tub with little preamble, his body tense and his mind roiling with nervousness about the night ahead. Geralt grabbed the bucket and let it wash over Regis’ head. His favored mint, sage, rosemary, and various other herbs scented soap was already beside the tub thanks to Barnabas-Basil. Geralt let the soap drip into his hands and began to massage it through Regis’ hair. The action immediately began to calm Regis as he leaned into the touches.

“Did you learn anything interesting?” Geralt asked as Regis groaned into his touch.

“I did actually.” Regis sniffed, wiping at his nose. “Of course I knew the bulk majority of that healing liquid was going to be water. What I didn’t expect was the iron content, nor the fact that the concentrated healing fluid itself is not a mineral like I initially thought. It’s a… well, the best way to describe it is it’s some sort of algae-like substance. The more concentrated it is, the brighter the glow. The less water it has in it, the more the glow shifts into the ultraviolet spectrum. I won’t know for sure its actual structure till I can see it under a magnifying scope of some sort, which we lack here. I am nearly certain it’s organic, and that it’s plant based, which is mind boggling.”

“What does that mean?” Geralt asked, picking up the bucket again and rinsing off Regis’ hair.

“Well, right now I am not sure. I am guessing if its plant based it has the possibility of being cultivated.” Regis pondered as Geralt grabbed the bottle of conditioning oil and ran it through his fingertips. The tips of his clawed nails began to work the oil through Regis’ hair, which caused the vampire to shudder. Geralt began to work the knots out with his fingertips, and in a strange sort of trance he began to peal through Regis’ hair layer by layer, looking for anything that was out of place. Regis groaned in pleasure as Geralt’s fingers worked through the wet waves and loose curls. Geralt grinned as he began to smell the telltale sign of arousal from the vampire, despite the thick smell of herbs.

Geralt grabbed the wash rag and put more soap on it and began drawing it over Regis’ shoulders in slow circles. After that was complete he moved on, laying Regis against his chest and washing the vampire’s arms, then moving on to his chest. Geralt could feel Regis’ breath coming in deep draws and his heart rate speeding up and in slow sweeping circles he drew the rag closer to his lover’s groin.

Before Geralt could reach home he found himself sprawled on the bed, a bit disoriented.

“Remember your promise from this morning?” Regis was straddling him, eyes dark and his hand pressed against Geralt’s throat. It wasn’t enough to choke, but his fingers were over the pulse points, applying just enough pressure to make Geralt feel lightheaded. Geralt nodded as a full body shudder ran through him.

“You will be silent.” Regis hissed, tightening his hand. “I hear one sound, I stop. It would be upsetting if you were to let the cat out of the bag before the time was right, yes? You are also not permitted to touch yourself. Your body is mine to do with as I please.”

Regis released his throat and Geralt gasped, more out of reflex rather than any sort of discomfort. Geralt nodded his head and felt that strange sense of disorientation again as Regis flipped him onto his stomach. He felt oil being poured into his crack and then the sweet pressure he had been craving all day filled him. Geralt shifted his hips and willed his asshole to relax, allowing Regis to enter with one long smooth motion. Geralt could have sobbed and nearly did when he found himself lifted up, his back arched against Regis.

The angle caused Geralt’s eyes to roll as Regis thrust in and out experimentally. The vampire’s breath was at his ear as Regis reached up under Geralt’s armpit and placed one deceptively strong arm and hand at the back of his neck, the second snaked up, running along Geralt’s chest and up to his neck, to finally cover his mouth. He was held so firmly and with such strength that Geralt couldn’t move if he had wanted to. The feeling sent sparks through his mind and set the breath puffing out of his nose onto Regis’ hand. He couldn’t lower either arm to touch himself, and being held in the air he had nothing to thrust into.

“Now you are truly at my mercy, for me to use as I please.” Regis said huskily. “Is this ok?”

Geralt couldn’t so much as move so he blasted a heated affirmation through the bond and felt Regis’ grin against his ear. Regis shifted his hips and Geralt tensed against his hold. Geralt didn’t understand what was happening behind him as he began to gyrate slowly. The angle he was at was causing Geralt to almost hurt; the pleasure and pressure was so intense. The head of Regis’ cock was pushed directly against his prostate in such a focused manner it was all Geralt could do to move with him as Regis rotated his hips.

Geralt’s breath hitched as a throb of pleasure rocked through him and he felt the first wave of precum drip down his stiff and swinging cock.

“You should see yourself, your cock hard… so hard and wanting.” Regis’ breath whispered against him as he angled his hips up. The pressure broke, almost causing Geralt to whine. “Not so fast, witcher, I am going to milk you for all your worth, this vampire has a craving for only one thing and it isn’t blood.”

Geralt would have laughed if he hadn’t felt himself approaching orgasm quickly. He tensed and right as he started to tip over the movement stopped. Geralt bucked against nothing, Regis holding his body firm as a muted orgasm ripped through him. It left him feeling hollowed out, empty, and Geralt’s eyes started tearing as he tried very hard not to make any noise. He felt cum running down the length of his cock. It was one of the single most unsatisfying sensations Geralt had ever felt associated to sex. He felt Regis re-angle his hips and begin the cycle anew, the head of his cock massaging his prostate again. Geralt’s cock didn’t drain, it just stood harder than ever, dripping as Regis began to move again.

“Your poor thing.” Regis chuckled, biting at Geralt’s neck. “You want so much more, but you can’t have it.”

Geralt felt his mind suddenly go blank. Perfectly, utterly blank, as euphoria rushed through him and dizziness caused him to shut his eyes. Geralt didn’t even move as his body began to shiver against Regis, as his mate’s cock provided the delicious pleasure Geralt craved. He couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see anything. He felt himself approaching orgasm once again and the pressure of Regis against him went away right before the critical moment. The speed at which this happened should have surprised Geralt, had he had a mind to think of anything but the strange floating feeling that surrounded him as his body crashed through another empty orgasm, cum pulsing from his tip in thick rivulets.

Geralt felt his body go limp, his muscles refusing control. The fact that Regis still held him was the only thing keeping him upright.

“Yes, that’s it…” Regis’ voice echoed around him, but Geralt couldn’t form any sort of coherent thought. “You have let go completely, you are fully in my control, your body is mine, and your thoughts are mine. I shall use you as I please and you will be helpless to experience anything but what I give you.”

The pleasure began to build again as Regis began to move, but it came from elsewhere. Geralt couldn’t engage at all, everything refused to work, to move. Regis knew though, knew how to drive into him. Regis moved the hand that had been against the back of his neck, and was now only supporting him with the arm and hand that covered his mouth. Geralt’s head fell backwards and Regis shifted his body once again, thrusting into him as his hand crawled lower.

“You did so well, Geralt.” Regis purred as his thrusts became more urgent. “Now you shall experience your reward.”

When Regis’ hand closed around Geralt’s cock and stroked at it lightly, Geralt’s world crashed back into sensation. He couldn’t control his body, or his voice, or anything for that matter, and he screamed into Regis’ hand; the sound muffled, nearly mute as the sounds from outside his door came crashing back into Geralt. He couldn’t help as his body struggled against Regis, who hissed against his shoulder as his thrusting became faster. The sensation as soft as it was, felt like a vice grip around his cock. Geralt hollered again as orgasm built up.

“Let go, Geralt, feel it…”

Geralt’s world dropped out once again as the euphoria came back and dizziness took over. The rushing pleasure felt like it was coming from every single cell in his body. Electricity danced through him as an orgasm, unlike anything he had ever experienced previously, rushed through him. His eyes were open but he couldn’t see, his ears were not deaf but he heard nothing. When Regis spilled inside him he could feel it, the amount enough that he felt it running down his legs in rivulets. Regis guided him downwards slowly, still seated with his cock deep in his ass as Geralt rode out the waves.

He didn’t understand how long he had been there when his mind started to come back. Tears were running down his face and Regis was stroking his hair, whispering praise into his ear. The touches were gentle and comforting. Regis had his wings out once more and had enveloped them. When Geralt finally felt control come back he leaned into Regis and wiggled an arm out of the vampire’s hold to stroke at the thumb and hand of the strong appendage.

“Welcome back.” Regis grinned, softly nuzzling his face into Geralt’s damp hair.

Geralt licked his lips to speak, his mouth was dry, but he couldn’t find words so he settled on focusing his breathing. When he shifted and felt Regis still seated deep inside him he gasped, and then the words came.

“What was that, Regis?” Geralt asked, almost wanting to thrust downward against Regis, but the feeling coming through the bond let Geralt know Regis was overwrought and couldn’t move at the moment.

“It… is a difficult concept to explain, something I had read about but always wanted to try.” Regis said, his own voice strained.

“Some sort of vampire magic?” Geralt breathed, running his thumb along the claw on Regis’ wing.

“No actually, there was nothing involved there other than our bond, which likely made the moment more intense, but overall likely only affected it little.” Regis said. “They don’t have an official name for it, some people call it submissive space, because it’s a place only people that submit to others can reach. Normally it’s reached through intense pain, but I figured it could also be obtained through denial, which can be just as intense under the right circumstances. I was right.”

Geralt sighed.

“You did so well, Geralt, better than I expected.” Regis said, nuzzling his head again, rubbing Geralt’s shoulders and chest.

“I feel like I could fall asleep, Regis.” Geralt groaned. “That drained me. How long was I out?”

“Not long at all, the whole process from start to finish only lasted about a quarter of an hour.” Regis said softly as laughter and footsteps echoed outside the door.

Geralt felt himself relax into Regis’ hold as his mate cared for him. Love, pleasure, happiness and closeness filtered through the bond.

“We will have to cut this short however.” Regis sighed. “We need to get dressed, and we need to get you off of me. Hopefully I don’t keel over in the process.”

“Did it affect you?” Geralt asked worriedly, turning his head.

“Yes, the bond was open, and it took an act of will for me not to fall into your mindset.” Regis smiled. “The pleasure you experienced, I experienced at the end though… it was magnificent.”

Regis’ wings lifted and Geralt relaxed himself, allowing Regis to slide out with a hiss. Geralt instantly started shivering despite the fact that the room was warm from the day’s heat. Regis smiled and grabbed a towel, drying Geralt off and cleaning him up. The shivering was tapering off by the time Geralt went to his wardrobe to grab a set of pants and a clean tunic. He thumbed through the clothes, feeling the fabrics, and settled on a soft cotton tunic with loose flowing bishop sleeves that tightened around his wrist, and a set of loose breeches.

A small gasp of surprise met Geralt’s ears as Regis pulled on his typical leather gambeson. Geralt turned to look at him. Regis was running his hand down the stitches, looking highly pleased.

“They fixed it!” Regis happily crooned. There were still patches on the gambeson, but they were neat and orderly and no longer looked like a spider high on fisstech attempted to patch the holes. “They even went so far as to replace the lining! And they replaced my lost button!”

Geralt studied the vampire and smiled as Regis obviously pleased with himself and the work. The under shirt had been replaced as well, the fabric identical, but with no wear, the opal buttons had been polished to a fine luster. The fringe on the bottom of the tunic was silky, moving with the vampire, and caught the light with its bronze thread. There wasn’t a spec of dirt to be seen, and the leather had been brushed and oiled.

“It’s a shame that will only last a day.” Geralt quipped. Regis shot him a look as Geralt put on his boots and kicked to settle the fit.

“You are harder on clothes than I am.” Regis said, buttoning his gambeson and pulling his belt around his waist. “I have had this gambeson since Nazair, it was the first thing besides the cotton tunics that Dettlaff gave me when I was able to walk once more. It holds a lot of memories. The fact that it is still intact is amazing. How many things do you have besides armor that are not replaced on a monthly basis practically?”

“Touché.” Geralt grinned.

When they stepped out of the house and into the chaos Geralt couldn’t help the fond smile that graced his face. Workers rushed to and fro and streamers had been put up. Barnabas-Basil was in the center by the tables that had been set up and were now laden with food that was steaming and hot. The casks and glasses had been set up on another set of tables, and carafes of juice and water were set out as well.

Geralt approached Barnabas-Basil and pulled him aside.

“Shut the gates. We don’t want any visitors from other places around.” Geralt said quietly, earning a nod.

Marlene came out of the house and wiped at her forehead, looking proudly at the spread.

“That’s the last of it!” She said, finding Geralt by the tables. Regis had wandered over and grabbed a couple of glasses and was filling them at the tap. People began to gather around, sitting at tables and benches that had been set up around the large stack of wood. Geralt gave Marlene a kiss on the cheek and hugged her. She hugged him back, smiling.

When Regis returned Geralt felt a shudder ripple through the bond at the same time it rippled through Geralt. The sun had already set and the sky was filled with fiery reds and oranges. Geralt turned to the east and looked. The moon sat heavy in the sky, directly over the mountains. It looked like a huge and ripe orange and it was nearly full. Geralt licked his lips as a shudder ran through him again. He glanced at Regis who was looking at the moon as well.

“We will hunt tomorrow.” Regis said, his voice oddly steady as he regarded the moon. “We must.”

Geralt felt a thrill run through him at the strange thrum of energy that inched its way from his toes to his fingertips.

The noise had picked up as the workers gathered and began chatting to one another, settling in.

Geralt whistled over the crowd as he saw the gates close. The talking died down and all eyes were on him.

“This everyone?” Geralt asked. A murmur went up as a baby cried and a mother set to hush it. There was a slight shuffling of bodies and Barnabas-Basil appeared. Geralt motioned Marlene and his majordomo over to him and had them stand beside Regis and himself.

“That’s everyone, Geralt.” Barnabas-Basil said, looking through the gathered crowd.

Geralt cleared his throat. Regis stiffened, his hands finding his belt since his satchel was lacking.

“Tonight is the night before the harvest.” Geralt started, the words feeling sticky and awkward in his mouth. “The harvest is a time for change, a time to celebrate that which we have, and to let those that are around us know how much they mean to us. Tonight we celebrate the bounty that has been set before us; however there are several matters of great importance to me that need to be addressed.”

“First thing, I am so proud of the work you have put in over this past year.” Geralt said, motioning to the vineyard. “This would be impossible without you.”

Smiles went throughout the crowd and a murmured appreciation, along with a few claps and a whoop from someone in the back.

“However, what we have here now?” Geralt turned to Regis whose eyes widened. “Would have been impossible without him.”

Geralt took Regis’ hands from his belt and put them in his. Regis was trembling in his grasp, and Geralt tightened his hold as his mate swallowed.

“Regis here is singlehandedly responsible for saving my life many times over.” Geralt said, keeping his eyes locked on the vampire as he spoke. “He saved me from getting hanged, he took arrows for me, he stitched me up when I was broken and offered advice when I was most in need of it. He followed me even when I threatened him, and in the end, he sacrificed his life for me to help me find Ciri.”

The murmur went through the crowd as people began to put the pieces together of who Regis actually was.

“I lived without him in agony for years, thinking he was dead, but he returned to me, and saved my life yet again.” Geralt was massaging the backs of Regis’ hands with his thumbs as Regis bit at his lip, his fangs visible.

“I finally have him back now.” Geralt’s own voice shook with emotion as he kept Regis’ gaze. “He is my partner, and my mate, he is my forever, and I am his.”

Regis was looking at him and a tear escaped his eye. Geralt smiled, sending warmth through the bond. He brought the vampire forward and kissed him on the lips. Regis stiffened, then melted into him. A murmur had gone up; low talking and darting eyes. Geralt pulled away but kept one of his hands in Regis’.

“That being said,” Geralt turned and addressed the crowd while Regis wiped at his eyes. “Most of you now know what he is. Those who have heard Dandelion’s poems and epics know there was mention of a vampire that traveled with us. Regis is the vampire.”

Eyes widened and postures stiffened. Almost everyone was leaning forward, even the baby that had been crying was silent.

“On top of being my mate, Regis is helping me through some issues.” Geralt motioned to his chest. “Some of you have been privy to my nightmares, and have helped Barnabas-Basil and I cope as best as you could throughout this year. The nightmares have a cause. My mutations are changing, it’s something I do not have experience with, but Regis is a barber surgeon and is somewhat of an expert on the mutations that are manifesting, which are vampiric in nature.”

“Are you well, Sir?” It was Markus. Geralt smiled as the murmurs got louder. Regis’ hand tightened on his wrist.

“As well as can be expected facing the unknown.” Geralt smiled and cleared his throat. “That being said, I am offering you a choice. You know of my mate, a vampire, you know of my problems, vampiric in nature. If you are uncomfortable with this fact, or you fear for your safety, I am giving you a clear way to leave. You are not beholden to me, your lives are your own. I appreciate all the hard work you have done, but I will not fault you if you want to leave.”

“Please take a moment and discuss it.” Geralt said, looking out to the crowd. “The decision does not need to be made right away, and I will not rescind my offer. You are free to go if you feel the need.”

There was a murmur and movement as the crowd sought out Markus. The sky was still holding light, but the colors were deepening quickly. Geralt looked to Regis and then Marlene came to him.

“You stupid, foolish man.” Marlene said, softly reaching up for Geralt’s face. “I knew you were hiding something, when I saw your hands the other morning I knew. Vampires have always been here in Toussaint, and you and Regis are not my first. I will not go anywhere, so never you fear.”

Geralt leaned into her hand and smiled. She pulled away from Geralt and approached Regis.

“I know higher vampires are cautious about touch.” Marlene said softly. “May I?”

“You may.” Regis’ voice came out soft and flush with emotion. Marlene’s hands found his face.

“I knew the second you walked in what you were, master Regis.” Marlene said, running her fingers through the black mutton chops on his cheeks. “As a wight one of the few creatures who could stand my presence were vampires. Many that were passing through would seek out my house for shelter, thinking it abandoned. However I have never met one who was as kind as you. Geralt had spoken of you often while you were away, and I knew then what he did not. I am so glad you found him again, master Regis. I will stay and with pleasure.”

Marlene then reached and hugged Regis. Regis enveloped the woman with his long limbs and allowed himself to scent her. Geralt smiled.

“Thank you, Marlene, you are a wonderful woman.” Regis said, his voice still husky. “I would love to know you better, and I do so enjoy your cooking. You have kept Geralt hearty and hale in my absence, and a better gift I couldn’t have asked for.”

She pulled away and smiled, wiping at her eyes. Geralt felt himself smiling as she stood next to Regis. Her back straight, her apron stained with sauce from something that had been laid out at the table. The workers had taken notice. Barnabas-Basil approached Geralt.

“You know where I stand on matters, Sir.” Barnabas-Basil said, taking Geralt’s hand and clasping it firmly. Geralt nodded.

“Geralt informed me of your true nature long ago.” Barnabas-Basil said, simply approaching Regis. “If I had a problem with it I would have brought up any hesitations long before now.”

He took the vampire’s hand and firmly shook it, his steel blue eyes just peaking over the rim of his shaded spectacles.

“Welcome to Corvo Bianco, master Regis; as Geralt’s significant other I am now at your beck and call just as I am for him.” Barnabas-Basil said. “If you have need of anything just ask.”

Barnabas-Basil moved to stand beside Geralt, and Geralt looked back to his workers. Eventually the crowd parted, looking at Geralt, and Markus approached with Cardinal two paces behind.

“We have some questions, the workers I mean.” Markus said, looking at Regis nervously then steeling his face. “First off, are we in any sort of danger from him, or you?”

“Not from us, no.” Geralt said simply. “Remember when I first started? I warned you that just by me being a witcher I was likely to attract problems. The same still stands true.”

“Will we have to…. I mean.” Markus actually blushed when Cardinal stepped up.

“Is our blood at risk from Regis?” Cardinal asked.

“Honestly, not unless you give it to us willingly.” Geralt said and Regis looked at him stunned.

“Us?” Markus asked, finding his words again.

“Yes, us. I am not immune from the pull of blood any longer.” Geralt said, looking down at Markus. “As I said before, my mutations have changed. The changes are vampiric in nature and I am depending on Regis to guide me through it.”

“If it eases your mind a bit, let me explain.” Regis stood, looking to Markus. “We require very little blood to survive. I have lived for years without it before. There were ill effects on my health from my lack of intake, however it was survivable. When Geralt says ‘give willingly’, he means but a swallow or two. There is about a gallon and a half of blood in the human body. Roughly twelve pints or so. Could you imagine downing twelve pints in a single go, back to back?”

“Depends on how bad the night was.” He said, looking down, then looking back up to Cardinal who scoffed. Regis couldn’t help the laugh and smile that crossed his face. Both man and half-elf looked at him with wide eyes.

“To say the least it would be horribly uncomfortable.” Regis shrugged simply. “The amount we would take depends highly on who was giving it and why. To remain in optimum condition – if uninjured, or not recovering from illness, we only require around two pints once or twice a month.”

“We hear about vampire victims all the time though.” Markus implored, looking back to Geralt.

“There are those of vampire kind who are lower minded, there are also copycats and people who have mistaken attacks of necrophages and other monsters for vampire attacks.” Geralt said. “There are variations between species, but Regis is a higher vampire; the pinnacle of their species. Their intellect is a match for all sentient species here. Regis himself has a doctorate in anthropology from Oxenfurt, and he studied to be a barber surgeon. He has seen more blood than most of us will see in our lifetimes, from babes being born, to someone who got attacked by werewolves.”

“If there are individual questions, I will do my best to answer them.” Regis nodded in agreement.

“And I will be pulling each family in individually to speak with them.” Geralt shared the nod with Regis.

Markus looked down to his feet, crossing his broad arms and working at his lips.

“There is one more thing.” Geralt added. “Those that stay behind I am going to be holding to an oath of secrecy. Not of mine and Regis’ relationship, I don’t give two fucks who knows about that. It’s our vampiric nature that must be kept a secret and so far, only Yennefer of Vengerberg, and now you, know of our status.”

“What of the court’s stance on sodomites?” It was a woman with a babe, one of the laundresses. A small cry of dismay went up among the other women. Geralt instantly recognized the woman as one of the first he had hired. He also recognized the keen look in her eyes.

“Nilfgaard…” Geralt started carefully, eyeing the woman whose chin stuck out defiantly. “Does not acknowledge sodomy as a crime, and hasn’t for centuries. If they did, every last brothel would be shut down from here to the city of the golden towers. As to their reaction to the carnal nature of our relationship? There will be intrigue, but it will not affect the trade of this place. If I remember correctly, you came to the vineyard shortly after I took over, begging to have a job and shelter as Belles had kicked you out for getting pregnant and refusing to terminate.”

“Aye, they did.” The woman nodded, her expression becoming steely. “Whore’s got no use for a babe they said.”

“Did I blink when I took you in?” Geralt asked.

“Only blinkin’ you did was to get the sun out your eyes.” She chuckled, shifting the babe on her hip. “You got me work here when I was about to pop. Called the midwife for me. Fretted over the child as if you were the father, pacing, if I remember. You done that with all the children born here since you came.”

“Which is worse, taking in a pregnant disgraced lady of the night, one whose job contract likely said sodomistic pleasures were likely to be one of the most requested things to perform, or having a paramour of which I commit sodomy with?” The general embarrassed outcry that went through the crowd caused Geralt to take a step forward. He could feel Regis’ amused embarrassment through the bond. He also heard Barnabas-Basil’s sharp intake of breath.

“Were I lookin’ at it from a courtly perspective, taking in the pregnant wench would be worse.” The woman smiled coyly.

“Were there any repercussions from that?” Geralt smiled, his eyes catching the waning light.

“None, Sir.” The woman nodded, meeting his gaze.

“That should answer your question then.”

There was a general outcry as the woman sat back down. People began to talk hurriedly amongst themselves and Geralt watched as people quickly went back and forth, only catching snippets of the conversations.

“Enough, the lot of you!” Markus shouted, turning and facing the crowd, causing it to quiet. “We have to put it to a vote. Most of us have been picked up in the last year, most of us with troubled pasts on our last legs. Myself included.”

Markus approached the crowd as Cardinal stepped into line, standing beside Marlene.

“We were outcasts, most of us. Unlucky, the rest of us.” Markus was walking amongst the throng. “Prison men, trades men who lost limbs, men who were discharged from the military, robbers, thieves, sodomites, whores, unwed mothers, deaf, and we even have one who is blind. All of us were looking for a chance to prove we were more than what we were labeled. To be given a chance. We have found it here. Master Geralt has opened his estate to us, in a way which no other member of the aristocracy has, ever. I do not feel as if a serve a master here, I feel as if I serve an equal. He toils in the fields with us, helps us fix our homes. Tends to us and teaches us. He knows each and every one of our stories by wrote and verse. There is not a stranger here to him.”

There were murmurs and nods of agreement.

“So what if master Regis is a vampire?” Markus said. “I saw him with my own eyes laying about in the sun this afternoon, his feet bare, napping against a tree. Most of us did. How many stories have we heard about our own flaws? How many times have we had to bite our tongues, knowing that we would be unable to change an opinion?”

There was a general course of cheers. And agreements. Whoops and whistles. People began to stand.

“I stand by him.” Markus called, looking to Geralt who nodded his approval. “We shall raise our voices: who among you will stay at Corvo Bianco?”

The cheer that went up was deafening. Clapping, howling and whistling. Geralt felt a small amount of hope bloom in his heart. Regis stepped up to him and grabbed his hand again, the same tentative hope racing through the vampire. He looked at Regis and smiled slightly. The cheer got louder.

“Who among us will forsake this place and leave?” Markus said, his foreman’s voice cutting through the din.

The silence was so quick, and so complete, that Geralt thought he had gone deaf. The only sound was of a child laughing still from the elation of the cheer, and several of the babies cooing and squealing in excitement. Geralt looked at all the eyes for a solid thirty seconds, trying to meet each and every person’s gaze he could see.

“This was not the reaction I was expecting.” Geralt admitted, his voice carrying a soft vulnerability he normally never displayed. His heart was racing, his palms slick with nervous sweat. “Thank you… thank you all.”

The cheer that erupted was louder than the first. When Regis pulled him around and kissed him full on the lips, grabbing at his hair Geralt felt true relief rush through him. The cheers grew louder. When he pulled away he held Regis’ face, their foreheads pressed together.

“I am yours, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy.” Geralt said, his voice soft and lost amongst the cheers.

“And I am yours, Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde.” Regis said, a smirk crossing his face. Geralt laughed, and pulled away as the cheering started to die down.

“Now, let’s get down to what we were here for in the first place.” Geralt said, approaching the bonfire that was waiting to be lit. “Tomorrow begins the harvest. Tonight, we drink to us! Eat at my table! Be merry! You helped make this possible.”

Geralt focused his mind and made the sign for Igni. He let the magic course through him and the bonfire lit up. Then he focused and turned slowly, calling the magic to light the lanterns, torches, and candles that had been laid out. The effect was wondrous. Awe went through the crowd as the lanterns lit seemingly on their own one by one. When everything was lit another cheer went up. Geralt turned and smiled to the crowd.

Barnabas-Basil grabbed both Geralt and Regis and led them to the food table. People began to file in behind them, laughing and smiling with a sense of comradery. Geralt was starving. The day of working, the stress, everything had built up and left him feeling hollow. When a couple of his workers pulled out a fiddle, a set of drums and a recorder, it tipped the mood from a gathering to a party.

Geralt and Regis stole away to a spot near the fire, and ate as Barnabas-Basil brought them wine.

“That went better than I had expected it to.” Regis said around a piece of food, his expression softened by the need to not hide himself any longer.

“Better than I had hoped.” Geralt said, smiling and taking a sip of wine before diving back into his food. It was glorious of course. Children had found the sticks and the fluffed up sugar and gelatin they were currently calling candy clouds, and were sticking them in the fire with gleeful abandon, only to pull them out when the candy clouds caramelized or accidentally caught fire.

Geralt smiled as he finished his first plate. Regis had done the same and sighed.

“Seconds?” Geralt asked, standing.

“Oh, yes.” Regis replied, smiling.

The trip back to the table was filled with people congratulating them and saying hello. Geralt smiled and chatted a small bit with those around him as Regis did the same. When they came back to their bench with their food the dancing started. Geralt felt himself grinning as Regis tapped his foot along with the tune. It was a strange and surreal moment.

Before long more people pulled out more instruments, and the number of dancers on the floor increased. Geralt laughed as people danced with one another, singing songs new and old.

When someone brought out an accordion the fray was on, and Geralt and Regis were both pulled to their feet as the fiddler called out and a bourée began. Geralt felt the pulse of happiness come from Regis as they began to cross paths with the others, dancing back and forth between a line using halted steps dodging one another and trying not to touch. Laughter was had by all as the dance eventually turned into a circle, and they spun with steps quick and loose.

When the music changed pitch, becoming darker and more intense, the crowd separated and Geralt and Regis were pushed into the center. Geralt grinned like an idiot as they danced around one another, coming inches away from each other only to spin away. Voices were hollering and hands were clapping. Connected by the bond they were in lockstep. Geralt would stomp his feet and spin and then him and Regis would pass around each other, each holding lethal grace. Geralt felt the world drop away as their dancing became more intense, their movements faster as the song increased tempo. Geralt felt the dance take a turn as he and Regis bucked up against one another, only to dart away, hands missing each other by millimeters. The crowd was going wild, feet stomping to the beat of the drums. It felt like he was fighting Regis, and it sent a ripple of arousal through them both as their eyes would meet only to spin away. Geralt had danced before many times, most of the time wholly reluctantly. This, though, this was different.

Their dance became a game, teasing one another with looks, and stomps, each more heated than the last. Geralt began to sweep close enough to Regis that their skin almost touched, Regis did the same. Heat began to pulse through the bond.

When the song ended they were face to face and chest to chest. The crowd surged around them and Geralt and Regis crashed into one another. Need flashed through the bond from both of them and Geralt broke away as the crowd separated and a new song began. No one batted an eye as Geralt grabbed Regis by the hand and they darted into the cellar.

They didn’t go through the trouble of removing their clothes as they rutted, adrenalin still flying high from the dance. Geralt took the lead and Regis hastily removed just one leg from his trousers and they came to completion, breathless, against a wall of barrels.

“You know how beautiful you are when you dance?” Regis growled breathlessly against Geralt’s neck. “It was all I could do to not rip you out of your clothes and take you in front of everyone.”

Geralt growled in turn. He grabbed Regis’ hair and bit quickly fading bruises down his neck.

“Do you know how much I wouldn’t have cared in that moment?” Geralt hissed back, his teeth pulsing.

Regis keened against him. Their lips met once more, fighting against one another. Geralt pulled away and licked and nipped at Regis’ lips. Regis pulled himself into Geralt, his arms pulling their hips flush, and kissed him again. They pulled away slowly, foreheads still resting against one another.

“We will be missed soon.” Regis whispered. “We should return.”

“Mmmm.” Geralt hummed. “I suppose if we must.”

When they had composed themselves and returned another dance was in full swing and a new batch of food had been brought out. Geralt saw fresh meat pies and grabbed one hungrily as they sought out their spot at the fire once more. Regis was enjoying a glass of wine as Geralt ate and listened to the music.

“Geralt?” Ciri’s voice broke through the din through his amulet, causing Geralt to stiffen. Geralt looked to the vampire who caught his sudden mood shift. Geralt quickly hopped up and headed back to the cellar. Regis followed after him.

“Ciri, what’s wrong, what’s happened?” Geralt asked, his adrenalin spiking. Regis shot him a concerned look but Geralt waved a hand.

“We are at the gate, Geralt.” Ciri’s voice came through once more. “They won’t let us in, say it’s a private party.”

“Gate? What gate?” Geralt barked. “Where are you?”

“We are in front of the gatehouse on the east side of the estate. Your estate.” Ciri said.

“On our way.”

“She is back, Regis!” Geralt practically chirped, causing Regis to laugh.

“Her timing couldn’t have been better!” Regis said, smiling as the two of them rounded the corner and went out through the throng to get to the gate.

Apparently in the short amount of time it took to walk to the gate Barnabas-Basil had made his way over as well, apologizing as they opened the gate. Ciri stepped through with Kelpie and a man in worn road leathers, his face obscured by a cloak and a single sword at his side, followed her on a very large, very irritated looking horse that was walking with a limp. Geralt frowned. He recognized the breed. A Nilfgaardian war horse.

Geralt veered off and grabbed Kirin, who was standing by a barrel eating a small meat pie.

“Kirin, see to their horses.” Geralt barked to the stable master, who blinked and realized they had guests.

Geralt jogged over to Kelpie and Ciri squealed.

“Da!” Ciri leapt from Kelpie and Geralt caught her. He pulled her close and smelled her hair as she laughed. She smelled of the path. Her scent, as always, filled him with a sense of pride. However his mutations had kicked up his smell a notch; he could read her. She smelled of stress, road travel, rain, sweat, and her month blood. To top it off, she had tried to disguise it by using her lilac perfume, and she also smelled of someone else.

“I see you made good time back from the caravan.” Geralt grinned, setting Ciri down. She instantly found Regis and the vampire opened his arms to receive her. Geralt felt his heart was going to burst at the sight of Regis and Ciri in an embrace. The two people he loved most in the world.

“Wipe that silly grin off your face, father.” Ciri said, pulling away from Regis with a coy look. “It’s unbecoming of a witcher.”

“Ok, Vesemir.” Geralt said fondly. Geralt’s amulet vibrated and he looked up to the stranger who was obviously quite stiff. Barnabas-Basil came dashing up to help the man.

“Goodness gracious, where are my manners?” Barnabas-Basil asked, easing the man off the horse. The man straightened his back and grunted as he grabbed at his middle on the right side. Regis’ eyes narrowed slightly at the action.

“Welcome to Corvo Bianco.” Barnabas-Basil grinned. Geralt realized Barnabas-Basil’s cheeks were tinged pink and stifled a smile as he tried to get a good look at the man in the cloak. “I am Barnabas-Basil Foulty I am the majordomo to this estate. You are a friend of Ciri’s, I take it?”

Geralt watched as the shimmer of an illusion ran over the man’s face, obscuring it as he nodded. Geralt frowned then decided to take matters into his own hands. Regis could sense his discomfort with the man.

“I am Geralt de Corvo Bianco, proprietor of this estate.” Geralt held his hand out. The man in the cloak hesitated for a moment then reached his hand out for Geralt’s. Geralt took it in a firm grip and realized several things at once. First, the man’s hands were full of blisters, yet they had age to them. He had calluses from holding and fighting with a sword, but not in a way that said defense, but more show. A fencer. Despite the calluses and the open and quite obviously sore blisters the man’s hands were soft, and his nails had been manicured and lacquered with clear polish that was chipping. He further studied the hand and noticed indentations where rings would have been. Big ones. Ones that suggested that at least one of them was a seal of some sort. He let go of the hand and motioned to the front of the estate.

“Please please, come this way, let us eat.” Geralt motioned for them to follow. Regis followed behind and scented the man. Geralt felt his mate’s puzzling over the bond so Geralt scented him too. It was wrong. All wrong. He had smelled this once before, but when? He smelled like an animal. And strangely he smelled of Ciri? He was traveling with her though… He snorted as Ciri laughed.

“I am so hungry right now I could eat an elephant.” She said, walking behind Barnabas-Basil. “This is quite the celebration you are having. What’s the celebration about?”

“How trustworthy is your friend?” Geralt asked testily, watching as the cloaked man’s steps jerked momentarily. Something about the way he walked too was just on the edge of Geralt’s mind.

“Very, Geralt,” Ciri said, her tone oddly serious as she looked back to the man.

“I announced Regis to the staff tonight, and we begin the harvest tomorrow.” Geralt shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant as they reached the food table. He quickly grabbed a plate and handed it to the guest, who again hesitated and took it. “Barnabas-Basil, grab some wine for Regis, myself and my guests, and have it brought into the house.”

Geralt grabbed a small loaf of bread and some salt off the table. He made quick work of tearing it into hunks and putting salt on it. He handed one to Ciri, Regis, and the stranger, and kept the other to himself.

“As is tradition, let us break bread, and come together as friends.” Geralt said remembering the words Barnabas-Basil had told him ages ago. “As long as you enjoy my food and my drink, you are welcome here in my home, under my roof.”

Ciri popped the piece of bread in her mouth, as did Regis, and Geralt. The man again hesitated, looking at the piece of bread before deciding to eat it. Geralt saw his mouth, only for a moment, before it was obscured again by the spell.

“You announced Regis?” Ciri asked, her eyes narrowing as she grabbed whatever she could reach and began piling it on her plate. “How do you mean?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like.” Geralt shrugged, grabbing a fresh plate and piling it with food yet again. “Told the staff he was a vampire, gave them the option to bow out. They didn’t. Which… actually we have a lot to discuss.”

The stranger had stopped dead as Regis passed by him. When Regis looked down to the table and smiled, the lantern light catching his very prominent fangs, the stranger about dropped his plate. He fumbled only for a moment before catching it. Geralt frowned as Ciri made a sound of surprise.

“So they know?” Ciri asked, her green eyes as wide as saucers she looked over to the man in the cloak, who now had an obvious shake to his hand. Regis, not missing a thing grabbed the man’s plate.

“You look like you are about to fall down, good Sir, please, as one of your hosts let me get you some food.” Regis said and then flagged Barnabas-Basil who had just set the wine glasses down in the house. “Master Foulty, please escort our guest to the dining table and get him situated. Judging from the looks of it he has had a hard day’s ride and needs a chance to sit and not be moving.”

“Uh… Thank you.” Geralt felt himself prickle up even more as the man spoke. That voice! Barnabas-Basil escorted him to the house.

“Who is he Ciri?” Geralt hissed, his hackles up. His nose was horribly confused; his eyes were playing tricks on him. Geralt hated the unknown.

“You announced to the whole vineyard that Regis is a vampire, are you crazy?!” Ciri hissed right back, as she piled food on her plate, and then began filling the one in Regis’ hands.

“How else am I going to explain what is going on?” Geralt asked, rubbing his temple. “No one said they minded. Now who is that man Ciri?”

Ciri hesitated, a flush radiating from her cheeks as she puffed them out in frustration. Geralt scented her again, and frowned. No arousal was present despite the flush.

“You quit that this instant, you and your nose.” Ciri grumbled, catching him in the act. “Let me get food, and we will go inside and I will explain everything there.”

Geralt huffed and he headed inside with Regis trailing after him with the plate of food for the guest. Trepidation and concern for Geralt filtered through the bond, and Geralt couldn’t help feeling annoyed – this night was going so well! He sent his thanks to Regis for his concern, but his annoyance was centered on the man who Barnabas-Basil was chatting with at the table, his hood still up. He was seated at the center position, which Barnabas-Basil was fretting about slightly. The man waved him off. Even the way the man held his wine glass annoyed Geralt on sight.

He sat down with a huff setting his food in front of him and taking the offered wineglass from Barnabas-Basil. He stared at the man as his amulet jumped and jittered. He scented the air once again and smelled blood. He frowned. It smelled like Ciri’s blood but different! Alarm bells were going off in his head.

“Please excuse us, un-named traveler.” Regis placed the plate of food in front of the man, his voice dripping with false courtesy. “We are currently being brought away from celebrations that have been a long time in coming, and Geralt and myself, we have reason to be wary. I can smell blood on you, are you injured?”

The man nodded slowly and then looked at the door. Ciri had been caught up by Marlene, who was hugging the girl. Geralt’s eyes narrowed and his knee began to jump. The man’s heart rate was skyrocketing, and stress rolled off of him in waves. He gingerly took a piece of food and sniffed it, and then nibbled it cautiously. The change was instant the second he got a taste. His body hunched forward and with little preamble he began to shovel food into his mouth. The action oddly calmed Geralt and his knee stopped bouncing and he began to eat as well. Regis sat down beside Geralt, placing his hand on his knee. The traveler hesitated when he saw the action, but only for a moment.

“I am absolutely famished.” Ciri announced, closing the door once herself and Marlene were inside. She quickly latched it.

“Ok, enough games.” Geralt’s voice was cold as he looked at the man. Marlene settled herself at one of the chairs, a wineglass in her hand as well. Barnabas-Basil stood behind the traveler, ready to spring into action.

“Geralt, don’t be rude.” Ciri eyed Geralt as she settled herself.

“If he was any less than his impertinent self, I would have thought him to be a doppler.” Geralt sat bolt upright; he knew the voice, and his eyes widened as the man pulled down his hood.

It was all he could do to sit and stare. Whiskey brown eyes looked unblinking at Geralt. Black hair with gray at the temples which normally was slicked back was sent askew due to the cloak. He had the shadow of stubble around his face, which had been bisected neatly by two angry looking red cuts, which had been cleaned with haste, and needed to be stitched. Regis recognized him immediately and pulled back from the table with enough force to tip his chair over.

“Your Imperial Majesty Emhyr var Emreis, Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd, Emperor of Nilfgaard, Emperor of the united lands of Temeria, Kaedwin, and Redania, Lord of Metinna, Ebbing, Gemmera, Dol Blathana, Sovereign of Nazair and Vicovaro.” The deep bow that Regis performed made Emhyr’s eyebrows shoot up. Emhyr inclined his head slightly. Geralt scrambled to join Regis, and in his haste got the bow all wrong. He almost didn’t, but as a title holder to not bow at this point would have been a death sentence.

Both Marlene and Barnabas-Basil had done the same, but with much more grace. Ciri didn’t even seem fazed as she stuffed her mouth full of food.

“Please.” Emhyr winced at the word, shifting his body. “Please do sit, I am not the Emperor right now.”

Geralt felt himself grow cold as Emhyr’s whisky brown eyes captured his.

  
“You and I have much to discuss, witcher…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHHEHEHHEHEHEHE
> 
> YES FINALLY
> 
> Another joins the fray! Say hello to the hedgehog himself :D And were not talking sonic! God I have been waiting to get to this point for MONTHS. MONTHS. When I did the outline for the story originally this is one of the first parts I wanted to include. 
> 
> I Can’t wait! Heehehehehehhe.
> 
> Chapter complete December 14th 2018


	38. Narration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emhyr tells his side of the story 
> 
> "“That is a good point to start on.” Emhyr said as Regis began to clean the cuts. “Do you remember our conversation at Stygga?”
> 
> “How could I forget?” Geralt hissed, his eyes narrowing and his blood boiling.
> 
> “Do you remember me telling you about a scroll? One that held a prophecy handed to me by Vilgefortz?” Emhyr asked, keeping his gaze steady.
> 
> “I do.” Geralt answered.
> 
> “Ciri?” Emhyr looked over to her. “If you would be so kind.”
> 
> Ciri fished into the satchel at her waist and pulled out a scroll. Geralt’s amulet vibrated minutely.
> 
> “Please open it and describe what is within, and do not fret.” The Emperor said, his eyes closing as he winced against Regis’s touch. “It is a magical item that no longer is able to function because the person that created it is dead. It still reeks of the old magic, but it will not harm you, and the words within will not affect anyone.”
> 
> Geralt took the scroll from Ciri from across the table and examined it. It was green and painted with gilded gold. It was tied with a snake’s skin. Geralt hesitated as he pulled at the tie, opening the scroll. His eyes widened and his hands began to shake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!  
>  **  
> **  
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff
> 
> Also I live for your guy's comments. Lets me know folks are about!
> 
>  
> 
> **************  
> 
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**  
>  Injury  
> mentions of torture (Emhyr)  
> mentioned of magical mind control (Emhyr)  
> mentions of Geralt/Regis/Yennefer  
> mentions, and vague descriptions of a relationship with under aged character (Pavetta)  
> mentions of attempted incest (Emhyr telling his side of the story)  
> mentions of murder (Pavetta)  
> mentions of attempted, and completed suicide (Geralt)  
> mentions of torture (Yennefer)
> 
> If I missed anything sorry
> 
>  
> 
> ****************

Geralt mechanically walked over to the chair Regis had tipped over and set it back upright. Regis, also thrown off, stood up, stumbled over his feet in his haste to sit, and then awkwardly scooted up to the table where he sat straight backed, with his fingers kneading at his gambeson. Geralt sat down in his own chair and after a few moments of awkward silence, Marlene, who had only been able to squeak, and Barnabas-Basil, also took seats. The Emperor started putting food into his mouth. This time with a lot less gusto.

“You two are made for each other, you realize.” Ciri noted, stuffing her mouth full of food as she leaned her elbows on the table. She looked at Geralt and Regis, her body pose relaxed as her eyes twinkled with merriment. Geralt almost scoffed. Regis hesitantly reached for his wine and took a long sip before setting his glass back on the table with shaky hands.

Emhyr sighed and looked down to his food.

“I would appreciate dispensing with the pleasantries.” Emhyr looked at everyone in the room in turn. “I am not here in any sort of official capacity, rather, Ciri insisted that I needed to get away for a time. I could see no other way to do so. For now, until I resume my role, you will call me Duny, or Duncan.”

Geralt narrowed his eyes at the man as Emhyr popped a cube of cheese into his mouth. He studied the man for a minute.

“Explain to me how you are here, alone, with no escort other than _my_ daughter?” Geralt asked, wanting to emphasize that Ciri was _his_ daughter.

Emhyr winced and shifted himself. Regis’ dark eyes were drawn to him, studying him fiercely. “You know of my Chamberlain Mererid?” Emhyr asked, swallowing the cheese and reaching for his wine. Geralt nodded, thinking of the posh man. “He is a doppler.”

Geralt blinked. He didn’t expect a straightforward answer. Emhyr took a swallow of wine, and a look of pleasure Geralt had never before seen on the man’s face passed over his features as he rolled the wine in his mouth. He looked at the glass in surprise. Geralt felt himself frowning as the Emperor set the glass down and began to speak.

“As is typical in all ruling families, there is always at least one.” Emhyr’s tone was quiet and reserved. “Mererid and I have been together since we were but boys. There are times when an Emperor needs to rest, and times when he needs to be in two places at once. When I took my rightful place, I found him once more and he resumed his place as my double whenever necessary, and chamberlain at all other times.”

Geralt blinked at this revealing piece of information.

Regis stood up and came closer to the Emperor.

“You are injured, Duny.” Regis’ tone was matter of fact as he studied the Emperor’s face. “What happened?”

“We got attacked by a cougar.” Ciri said, taking the lead. “His horse had thrown a shoe a few days ago and we couldn’t stop. Then he cracked his hoof on a rock today just outside of Belhaven. We have been limping along for hours when the cat saw his horse and pounced. It knocked him to the ground and cut his face to ribbons. I dispatched the cat, its skin is in my saddlebag.”

“Would you allow me to help? You need stitches and the wound will fester if we don’t get it taken care of.” Regis asked, gesturing towards the wounds hidden on the Emperor’s body.

“First, I have some questions.” Emhyr’s eyes turned warily to Regis. “You are a vampire? I had read the stories, and saw the aftermath at Stygga. I was under the impression that you were dead. Yennefer’s only experience with you, outside of recent events, was of you barreling in and confronting Vilgefortz and shortly thereafter, dying. Why is this?”

“We are very, very hard to kill.” Regis’ tone held malice, and his eyes were narrowed and burning brightly.

“And did I hear correctly that you and Geralt are… together?” Emhyr asked, gauging the reactions flitting over Regis’ face. “Forgive me for my curiosity, but formal introductions and a party usually implies a wedding.”

Ciri choked and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“You got married?!?” She voiced incredulously.

Geralt frowned and Regis’ cheeks tinged pink. It wasn’t a marriage, what they had seemed deeper than that. Marriage seemed like a frivolous contract in comparison. Geralt growled and moved to speak but was cut off.

“Now, guests.” It was Marlene that interrupted, her voice taking on an authoritative edge. “I understand you are all family, and extended family by proxy. However this is Geralt’s home and I will not see him or master Regis disrespected within its walls. Emperor or not.”

She took a sip of her own wine, her thin arms moving with grace. Regis nodded and Geralt felt a small smile tugging at the ends of his frown.

“Geralt and Regis are together as lovers, yes.” Marlene said, looking to the Emperor who was regarding the woman in the dirty food-stained dress with barely disguised disdain. “However, the feast was to celebrate the harvest and put an ease to the idea that Regis is a vampire.”

“Forgive my startled reaction, Lady…?” Emhyr asked, eyeing the woman warily.

“Marlene de Trastamara.”

“Ah, any relation to Baron Amadis?” Emhyr’s eyes lost some of their ice and he resuming eating.

“He is my sister’s son, yes.” Marlene’s voice was as sharp as a razor’s edge. “I have been estranged from my family for many years before Geralt found me and helped me. Now again you are being highly rude for one of such a high station. Do you, or do you not, want Regis to help you with your face?”

Emhyr looked at the vampire, a look of fear flashing through his face. Geralt narrowed his eyes and let his irises narrow to slits.

“I suppose…”

“I am a trained barber surgeon, and have been patching people up since before you were born.” Regis rebuked the veiled insult, his hackles raising. “I see Geralt’s opinion of you is well warranted. Well, let’s get the juvenile questions out of the way. Yes, I drink blood and no, I won’t drink yours. Yes, Geralt and I are together, and we will be long after your death. Now if you want to have a clean set of stitches that will leave minimal scarring I recommend you don’t irk me any further.”

When Regis disappeared in a puff of mist and skirted under the doorframe Emhyr jumped.

“I fear we have started out on the wrong foot.” Emhyr sighed and rubbed his fingers on his temples. “Forgive me, I have not traveled on horseback, that far, nor that fast, for quite some time. I am out of my element as I do not have a court at the moment to jump to my beck and call. In fact, I feel a little lost as I am not even sure what the etiquette is among equals, as I had none.”

Geralt’s eyes widened in shock as he looked to Emhyr. Disgust rolled over him as he watched the man chewing slowly. He looked to Ciri, who was pointedly looking anywhere else, her mouth stuffed so full of food she looked like a hamster. Geralt growled low as he leaned forward in his chair, making Emhyr look at him.

“Why are you really here, Duny?” Geralt asked as Regis’ mist came sweeping back through the door and he coalesced in front of the Emperor, setting down his bag. This time the Emperor didn’t jump.

Regis began to set up his tools as Emhyr looked to Geralt. Emhyr sighed and looked to Ciri, who looked back at him and nodded shallowly. He cleared his throat.

“I have been informed, through Yennefer, that there is a plan in the works to take my life.” Emhyr said simply. Geralt couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his lips.

“This is different than normal _how_?” Geralt crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “You have pissed everyone off from Zerrikania to Novigrad.”

“I will amend that and say that there has been a _credible_ threat against my life.” Emhyr snorted, eyeing Geralt. “Yennefer has been pushing me to delay, but the year is getting onward and I plan to take residence in Novigrad after this moot is complete to attempt to ferret out Hierarch Hemmelfart and his ilk.”

“Who knows you are here?” Geralt asked, his eyes narrowing further.

“No one outside of those in this room, and outside of Mererid, know that I have taken a temporary sojourn.” Emhyr answered; there was a small smile playing on his lips as he took another sip of wine. “This is absolutely excellent Geralt, what is it?”

Geralt’s eyes widened momentarily and he looked to Barnabas-Basil, who shrugged and shook his head.

“It’s Sangreal.” Geralt answered carefully, watching Emhyr. Emhyr frowned, and swirled the liquid around in the glass before taking another, smaller sip.

“And you came to acquire it how?”

“Really papa, stop it!” Ciri interjected, her eyes fierce. “Da, we are here, because Emhyr will be safe here for the time being. He wants to get a lay of the land, get a feel for the people. His cousin has not been forthright about the duchy and all that has happened. Mama specifically said he was in grave danger. Him being in grave danger means that she is in fatal danger, and he is worried.”

“I am also _here_ ,” Emhyr interjected, shooting a sour look at Ciri, “because you and I have never gotten the chance to sit down with one another, Geralt. There is a great deal of bad blood between you and I. I was hoping that…”

Geralt bared his teeth and his fists hit the table with a resounding crash.

“Manners, Geralt.” Regis said, nonplussed. “I am sure the man who wanted to rape his own daughter, and killed his wife has plenty of excuses for why he nearly did what he did.”

Marlene covered her mouth with both hands, a gasp escaping from her lips. Emhyr looked to Ciri with a stricken expression while Ciri pursed her lips and looked downwards. Shame washed over Emhyr’s features and his lips drew tight. Geralt’s teeth began to ache and his hand started fiddling with the ring on his finger. Regis stepped around the table and grabbed Geralt’s hand before he could take the ring off.

“Let’s also not forget that he seduced Pavetta when she was only fourteen.” Regis bit out, looking at Emhyr with cold black eyes as he gripped Geralt’s wrist. Emhyr looked from Geralt to Regis and pursed his lips.

“Had I known she was so young it would have never happened.” Emhyr said lowly. “You know the pull of a child of surprise, Geralt; you couldn’t escape from it. I saved King Roegner after an attempt on his life. I was alone; I had just my wits and the occasional contact from one of the few that remained loyal to the var Emreis house. When I found him, dying in the woods, I couldn’t just leave him there. I had no idea he was a King at first, till I nursed him back to health.”

Emhyr looked up then to Regis.

“You were there. I remember you; you were a traveling barber surgeon and you were on your way to Dillingen, coming up from the south.” Geralt felt Regis freeze, his mind coming to a grinding halt.

“You didn’t blink twice when I approached you in the middle of the night.” Emhyr said, looking up at the vampire whose eyes were wide. “I only had fifteen summers under my belt and I had parted from Xarthisius in bad blood after a cure for me had failed to show up. I was angry, young, and without friends as far as I knew. When I approached you and you followed me to my hut where Roegner lay, you told me he had been poisoned by an inept hand, and that, though it had seemed serious, there was an easy fix. You brewed the potion that saved Roegner’s life. I told you I would find you and repay you one day, but I never did, did I?”

Geralt felt a flash of memory. A skinny boy in torn clothes, panicked to the point of tears, approached him at night and begged him to see to the fallen man. Regis had followed and saw to the man overnight. The boy told Regis that he had to get out before dawn, but not before promising him the world, once he was returned to his rightful place. Regis of course had told him not to worry about it, that he didn’t work for coin at the moment. The boy looked at him with a familiar air of determination, and told him it didn’t matter, he would find him and repay him.

“No, you didn’t.” Regis said, his voice soft and eyes wide. Geralt felt his lips twitch.

Emhyr grunted, pain flashing over his face.

“You must forgive me Regis, I have yet another favor to ask of you.” Emhyr’s voice was now rife with exhaustion. “The ride was long and hard, and I have much to speak of, and it needs to be spoken of this night. Do you have anything with beggartick in it? I will speak while you tend to my wounds. I am also going to need a salve of some sort as I have saddle sores, which I can attend to myself after we are finished.”

“I told you to wear just chaps and a soft wool with no seams on the inner legs.” Ciri piped up, pursing her lips and glaring at Emhyr. Regis got out a small potion in an unfamiliar bottle, and handed it to Emhyr. Geralt smelled it as it passed. It had beggartick in it, but there was something else outside the usual.

“Go easy on it.” Regis said. “I made it for Geralt, whose witcher’s constitution can take more than yours. Take the smallest of sips, and you will need to forgo the wine.”

Emhyr nodded and Marlene stood up, racing to the kitchen. She returned carrying a carafe of chilled water just when the Emperor finished swallowing the liquid, grimacing from the flavor.

Geralt was still standing, watching the scene and feeling more and more confused. He frowned when Regis sent soothing waves over to him.

_We must hear him out._ Regis said through the bond as he continued to set up.

_Why should I?_ Geralt threw back. He was angry. No…. he was _furious_.

_Because Geralt, you need to be the better man._ Regis shot back, frowning at Geralt. _Smell him, he is injured, and though you can’t discern it, his cortisol levels are through the roof, as are his levels of_

_catecholamines. He is suffering, his legs are swollen, he is retaining water and is in not in the best of health. Let’s listen and allow him to speak, as he seems to have much to say._

Geralt sighed and pointedly looked over to Emhyr.

“Aren’t you going to put me to the gallows for telling you your daughter was dead?” Geralt growled, slipping down into his seat.

Emhyr scoffed, raising a brow. “Yennefer would never allow it,” he waved his hand flippantly, “and I would prefer to keep her as happy as possible with all I have put on her shoulders these past months. No Geralt, you are not in danger. I knew the moment you told me she was dead that it was a lie.”

He pointed to his nose causing Geralt to furrow his brow.

“One of the many residuals from the curse I lived under so long: my sense of smell is absolutely uncanny.” Emhyr said, a small smile crossing his lips. “It’s part of the reason I am so feared. I can smell a lie just as you can, witcher. I could put two and two together. She didn’t want to see me, and with good reason. I cannot fault her for that, and I cannot fault you for wanting to protect your charge. Not now, not when I finally have had the opportunity to speak with her and begin rebuilding the relationship I inadvertently gave away when I demanded you invoke the law of surprise against me.”

“Here, let’s get this out of the way.” Regis interrupted. “Marlene dear, do you have any water boiling?”

“I do, master Regis. Let me go and get some for you.” Marlene nodded and again was in motion.

“B.B.,” Geralt said looking to his majordomo. “Go back to the party, take Marlene with you. Keep the celebrations in order; assure them that all is well. We will speak with Em… Duny alone.”

Barnabas-Basil straightened and nodded. When Marlene returned with the steaming, still bubbling water, she set it quickly on the table, and Barnabas-Basil grabbed her by the arm as they quickly headed out the door. The second they were out Regis stepped over to it and locked the door. Geralt felt the bubble go up. The sounds from outside were muted, and Geralt looked back to Ciri. Her green eyes were pensive as Regis returned to the table and started washing his hands in the boiling water.

“Does that not hurt?” Emhyr asked, looking at Regis in fascination now. The beggartick was starting to work; his features were relaxing, and Geralt could smell him calming. He could smell something else too, something from the medicine that Regis had given him.

Regis didn’t grace him with an answer. Despite his insistence that Geralt listen to him, Regis himself was pulled taught as a tripwire.

“Lean back, let me see the cuts.” When Emhyr did as he was told, Regis winced. “I hate to bear bad news, but these will scar. You may be able to get Yennefer to go over them, but they will always be faintly visible unless you have a glamoring potion.”

“I will add them to the collection then.” Emhyr sighed, his deep voice rumbling.

“Collection?” Regis asked as he popped the cork on a bottle. Immediately the smell of strong cleaning alcohol flooded the room.

“I have another set of cuts on my back and my thigh that will need tending.” Emhyr said. “You shall see what I mean.”

Geralt caught Ciri’s wince and felt his brows furrowing.

“Has he really changed your mind about him that much?” Geralt asked, looking to Ciri. Almost in unison the witcher and witcheress both crossed their arms, sighed and leaned back in their chairs. The motion caused Geralt to chuckle.

“My mind was changed several months ago before I met with him when I was traveling with Avallac’h for a few months.” Ciri said, looking at Geralt. “That’s why I agreed to winter with Yennefer this year. I have been honing my abilities, and I wound up witnessing a great many past events that will put what he says in clear perspective for you. You don’t have to forgive him, however, I wouldn’t expect it from you.”

Geralt grunted as Regis worked. Emhyr didn’t move an inch and made no noise of being in discomfort as Regis deftly cleaned and stitched his face up.

“However, you will tell me which path we are on as far as you are concerned.” Ciri looked at Geralt. “I saw you transform when you’d hit your head and gave yourself a concussion.”

Geralt felt his eyebrows shoot up.

“How far along are you?” Ciri asked looking at Geralt.

“How much do you know?” Geralt shot back, raising a brow and looking at his daughter.

“How much do you know?” Ciri countered, looking straight back at him. “I have not spoken to Yennefer since I left, though the night I left here I had a dream. In it, Yennefer pulled one of the books from Kaer Morhen here and showed it to Regis. Then I saw you crying in a field, raw and unyielding as Regis comforted you.”

Geralt winced.

“I know of Yennefer’s involvement at Kaer Morhen.” Geralt said, his eyes narrowing as he realized something. “And I am guessing by the way you approached it you know of it too. You are back on the Trial of Choice, aren’t you?”

Ciri nodded.

“I am surprised you didn’t call me on it that day at the palace.” Ciri smiled sadly.

“If it eases your mind any, Yennefer and I… we…” There was a sudden hiss from Emhyr as Regis slipped. Panic ran through the bond.

“Before you go and get yourself too worked up, I know of Yennefer’s nature.” Emhyr said simply, his head still cocked back as Regis wiped at his cheek with a rag in hasty movements. “We have an agreement, her and I. Communication and trust is the cornerstone of what we are. She needs sex as a part of her regimen; it centers her magic, something she is not keen to admit.”

“I am… deeply sorry for intruding upon her.” Regis said, biting his lip and causing Emhyr to stiffen.

“Wait… I thought…” Emhyr sat up and looked at Geralt, confusion in his eyes. Then he looked to Regis who was blushing furiously. Ciri looked at them both and laughed.

“Honestly I was just along for the ride on that one.” Geralt shrugged, running his hand through his beard as he felt himself relaxing, which in turned caused Regis to relax.

“Why… did you?” Ehmyr sputtered. Watching the Emperor get flustered caused Geralt to laugh. Regis shot him a look and grabbed Emhyr’s face a little harder than he meant to.

“I am a vampire.” Regis said, holding Emhyr’s face steady as he resumed stitching. “An individual with magic, especially one whose intentions are as pure as Yennefer’s are, is an attractive meal.”

 Geralt licked his lips and felt the pulse behind his teeth at the memory of her blood from earlier that day.

“She is at that.” Geralt said, causing Ciri to jerk upright.

“Geralt, you…?”

“Ok, let’s get this all straight here and now.” Geralt said, looking at Ciri. “The mutations that Yennefer was supposed to be looking out for were vampiric in nature. Long story short, for the moment. They have manifested because I lost several runes that had been inserted in me that kept them at bay. As such, I now have vampire mutations. Have you not noticed? You are supposed to be a witcher.”

The jibe caused Ciri to study Geralt. Her eyes widened and she stood up and rounded the table. Regis eyed her for a moment, as she took his seat, then resumed stitching. She grabbed his hands and looked at them.

“Claws, sharp, thick…” She leaned over and sniffed at him, frowning. “Your smell has changed, only slightly. You smell earthy almost like oil… you also smell of… oh… gross!”

Ciri winced and Geralt chuckled, smiling. She grabbed his face. The action took him by surprise as she forcefully pulled his lips up and looked.

“Fangs, Geralt.” Ciri said, looking at them closely. Geralt made a muffled sound of protest through his nose. “You have bloody fangs, and not your little tiny ones that you have had forever, but proper ones.”

“These are not proper.” Geralt said, pulling away from Ciri and licking at his teeth. “Do you want to see the full scope of the change?”

“Really Geralt, now?” Regis asked, patting Emhyr with a rag before releasing him. A sudden flash of heat raced through the bond as Regis’ eyes dilated in the low light. Geralt hesitated, suddenly not so sure of himself.

“Let me see.” Emhyr ordered, looking over at Geralt with a curious gaze. Geralt winced. He looked at Ciri in hopes she would help, and met curious eyes and a small shrug.

“You offered.” She said.

Geralt felt Regis push him through the bond.

Geralt removed the ring and closed his eyes. He let the power steal over him and called forth the changes. He hissed as his teeth elongated; that pressure behind his teeth increasing as he did so. Ciri gasped as his claws extended outwards and the angles of his face changed slightly. When he opened his eyes and looked at her, she blinked. He automatically scented the room and arched his head up, drawing the air over the organ in the back of his nose. His eyes snapped forward, catching Ciri’s. The smell of her month’s blood filled the room and caused his mouth to water. He frowned and instantly felt disgust rip through him, followed by an instinctual revulsion.

“Is he a danger to us?” Emhyr addressed Regis.

“No, he is not.” Regis said simply. “Ciri is his child, and he recognizes her as such. Because she is his child, and you are her blood father, you are also safe, unless you or she offer yourselves. Ciri is anemic at the moment from the poisons from the Trial of Choice, as well as her month’s blood. Even if she offered he would refuse. Vampires will share among themselves if necessary, but never from one who is suffering from a lack of blood.”

“She smells disgusting.” Geralt said honestly. “You though, you smell… interesting.”

“Hey! That’s rude!” Ciri huffed, frowning.

Geralt eyed Emhyr and saw his pulse through his neck, hearing his heart pumping. The smell of fear lanced through the air and Geralt’s nose flared.

“Put the ring back on, Geralt.” Regis growled as a ripple of lust filtered through the bond. Geralt nodded curtly, the overwhelming smell of Emhyr was all he could focus on. When he slipped the ring back on and his changes washed away, the smell dulled. Geralt sat back and sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache.

“Now, we have shown you our secret.” Regis said, looking at Emhyr. “Please, let me continue to aid you, remove your shirt. Do not think you are off the hook yet, you said that you had much to tell us.”

Emhyr began to undo the buttons and Geralt looked back to Ciri. He frowned.

“Why did you not just blink here?” Geralt asked. “That would have been easier on you both.”

Ciri stood up, frowning.

“I am being tracked by something.” Ciri answered, rounding the table and sitting back down at her spot. “At first I thought it was the Hunt again, that maybe they had reformed in the years since their defeat. The magic I have been feeling recently had the aftertaste of the Aen Elle. I contacted Avallac’h. He said that Ge’els had no inkling to stick his nose into anything now that the Frost has stopped. It can track my movements when I blink, but that is the only time I am able to feel it. We thought it prudent to stop my blinking till we could remove the spell that is tracking me. It’s sophisticated and horribly basic all at once. Oddly enough here in Toussaint the pull of the spell isn’t nearly as heavy, but I didn’t want to risk it with the Emperor in tow, as they could be tracking me to get to him. As of right now we can’t find the source. Avallac’h is on his way here with a contingent of the Aen Elle for the moot, hopefully we can solve some of the mystery then.”

“Why the hell are they coming?” Geralt barked, his eyes widening. “I thought they would keep to themselves now that the Frost is stopped.”

Emhyr grunted and Geralt looked to him, feeling himself freeze from the inside out.

“The Aen Elle are here at my invite.” Emhyr said ignoring Geralt’s gaze for the moment. “The connection between our world, and theirs, is a permanent fixture. I plan on announcing a truce between us, and the announcement of an embassy, which will be built here in Toussaint. They have agreed to it, and in turn they will build a human embassy on their world. The Frost may have been stopped, but it has become like a liquid; it has to settle and drain, and their world is still horribly at risk and is suffering effects from it. As is ours. I figure it is a mutual point of interest. Additionally, with them having an official legal standing here, I can track them, and they can’t actively go after Ciri anymore if the mood strikes them, without causing great harm to themselves.”

Geralt heard the words but was so focused on Emhyr’s body that they barely registered. Emhyr sighed.

“Impressive, aren’t they?” Emhyr asked softly, running his hand down his arm as a frown settled on his lips. Geralt couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Crisscrossed on just about all the surface of the Emperor’s skin were scars. Deep ones. Some of them were meticulous from knives and swords, others were from whips. Still others were from burns. They were planned. They stopped just above his wrist, and just below his neck.

“I was tortured when I was but a boy, in attempts to get my father to abdicate to the usurper.” Emhyr said, his eyes distant. “I have long ago come to terms with it. This was before they had my father killed. They tortured me to try to control him. It didn’t work and they eventually cursed me.”

He leaned forward to give Regis access to the claw marks across his back.

“That is a good point to start on.” Emhyr said as Regis began to clean the cuts. “Do you remember our conversation at Stygga?”

“How could I forget?” Geralt hissed, his eyes narrowing and his blood boiling.

“Do you remember me telling you about a scroll? One that held a prophecy handed to me by Vilgefortz?” Emhyr asked, keeping his gaze steady.

“I do.” Geralt answered.

“Ciri?” Emhyr looked over to her. “If you would be so kind.”

Ciri fished into the satchel at her waist and pulled out a scroll. Geralt’s amulet vibrated minutely.

“Please open it and describe what is within, and do not fret.” The Emperor said, his eyes closing as he winced against Regis’s touch. “It is a magical item that no longer is able to function because the person that created it is dead. It still reeks of the old magic, but it will not harm you, and the words within will not affect anyone.”

Geralt took the scroll from Ciri from across the table and examined it. It was green and painted with gilded gold. It was tied with a snake’s skin. Geralt hesitated as he pulled at the tie, opening the scroll. His eyes widened and his hands began to shake.

“The witchers of the Wolf School specialize in breaking curses.” Emhyr had opened his eyes and was studying Geralt. Geralt took the scroll and unfurled it to its full length. His eyes darted across the nuanced Elder Speech and his eyes widened. His hands began to shake and he looked to Regis, his expression stricken.

“This… this is…” Geralt looked up to Emhyr.

“It’s a curse, brought about by a djinn that had been tamed by Vilgefortz.” Emhyr’s voice was solid in its knowledge. “In essence it explains his whole plot. You are named in it, Ciri is named in it, as am I and many others. The second I touched the thing, I was under its spell, and had to enact it from start to finish. Right down to the letter. The spell did not break until his spirit finally left the world. That is why I released Ciri to you. The only reason why the spell broke? There was one creature among your band who was not effected by its magic, because no mage, and no djinn could see him with their magic sight.”

Geralt looked to Regis as his stomach twisted into knots.

“Please allow me a moment Duny, I do believe I need to sit down.” Regis‘ hands were shaking and the color drained from his face.

“Your vampire was the one thing no one could expect.” Emhyr said, looking to Regis. “Vilgefortz failed because when Regis attacked him, the djinn’s curse couldn’t comprehend it, and Vilgefortz had to rely on his own strength to attempt to kill him. He was power hungry, but was weak. He drained himself. He also didn’t know the extent to which witchers could use magic. He drained himself, and then you, in all your brilliance, cast an illusion, catching him off guard, which allowed you to kill him. His spirit lingered for hours. Not comprehending what had happened. His magic was still active till I took Ciri out of his reach. He was clinging to her magic, but he could not stray far from the anchor his body provided. Our conversation? All still orchestrated by his magic.”

Geralt looked to Ciri and Ciri smiled softly, tears in her eyes.

“I can’t explain to you what happened when the spell broke because I had lived under its influence for so long.” Emhyr said. “I knew Ciri was crying behind me, but I did not care, until suddenly I did. I cared keenly and deeply. In that moment I truly did not want her to know the man I was. I was ashamed. I was horrified I had sent you and Yennefer to die in each other’s arms, and I only hoped that I was not too late. I let Ciri come back to you, because I knew right then and there that something beyond reasoning had taken me over. I felt clearer, more levelheaded than I had in ages.”

“Everything I told you in that castle, every last uttered word of it was utter horse shit.” Emhyr spat grimly, looking down. “I loved her, Geralt. I loved Pavetta. She found me when I was at my lowest. I had no idea who she was or what she was doing there. She found me crying, still as a were-hedgehog, I was a man grown, nearly thirty winters under my belt. She told me she was drawn to the place; she approached me and sat with me. There was no fear, no anything. We sat together that afternoon and she read from her book of poems, a book I had myself read to pieces. I could recite the thing from front to back. I fell in love. Hard. When she left me that afternoon, I felt like my heart had broken into a million pieces. I waited for her.”

“She came again, this time as we talked she touched my hand.” Emhyr said. “I could have died then and died happy. Day by day, she appeared more and more often. She never told me who she was, she said that names didn’t matter. We spent a whole beautiful summer with one another. Talking about our wishes, and dreams. She never once saw my human form that whole time, and at the end of the summer, when the air began to chill, we made love for the first time. She didn’t flinch once as I took her maidenhead as a monster. She was beauty incarnate. She told me she loved me and that she wanted to be with me. She confessed this to the monster!”

“When we expended ourselves, exhausted, we both tumbled into a bed of moss and fell asleep.” Emhyr grinned. “When we woke it was well after midnight. I remember her screams and I was panicked; I thought someone had come to murder us. I only realized she was screaming at me when her magic broke free and threw me against the wall. When she heard me call out in pain it broke her panic, and she realized it was me, Duny. She attacked me again, and we fell into one another time after time. When morning came and once more I turned into the hedgehog, I told her of the curse, and what it would take to break it. She was crestfallen.”

“She confessed to me who she was, and I knew it then.” Emhyr looked at Geralt his eyes determined. “I knew she was my child of Destiny. We plotted over the winter, and she brought me into the palace and kept me hidden. You were called there to eradicate a moaning ghost that had been terrifying the castle. Unfortunately that was us.”

Emhyr’s eyes were distant as he laughed at the memory. Geralt was trying to find a lie in every word that came out of his mouth, but as Emhyr spoke his heart slowed down and his scent began to calm. There was no lie to his words and Geralt felt his world tilting on end. Regis was equally as stunned and between them the only feeling bouncing between the bonds was a slowly growing empathy, and a strange feeling of being displaced from the world.

“What I didn’t know is that one night at the end of summer, I had impregnated Pavetta.” Emhyr smiled sadly. “You know the rest of that tale, but what you don’t know is what happened after Ciri was born. It was winter, Ciri only had a little over a year and a half on her.” Emhyr smiled looking at Ciri. “She was already a handful. I was happy. Pavetta was happy. When Vilgefortz appeared in Cintra and informed me he knew who I was and he had urgent news, and a prophecy that would affect my daughter, I panicked. I had given up more or less regaining my throne. I was content to rule Maecht and Cintra by Pavetta’s side and raise little Ciri.”

“ When I was cursed it was like I was living a life through a looking glass. The prophecy Vilgefortz told me about was that the world was going to end and it would be my great grandson that would save the world, but only if I took Ciri to my bed when she came of age and had a child with her. It became an obsession. I tried to tell Pavetta about it, but she would have none of it. She told Calanthe. They said I had lost my mind, and they were right. What happened, happened so fast, and I was so clouded. Vilgefortz insisted that now was the time to take back Nilfgaard; he and others who were supposedly loyal to me. He told me I needed to get myself and my family on a boat and he would spirit us away to Nilfgaard. I tried to convince Pavetta, and she again would have none of it. The curse was slipping, I felt confused. Finally Calanthe had managed to come up with a plan, and Pavetta came with me, but instead of Ciri, she held a pig’s stomach filled with warm water and a melon swaddled to look like Ciri.”

Emhyr clasped his hands together and Geralt noticed they were shaking as the Emperor continued his tale. “When we wound up in the ocean Vilgefortz used the djinn to summon a maelstrom. He told me to grab Ciri, and Pavetta fought me. She fought me like it was our daughter. When the stomach burst on the boat deck Vilgefortz howled. The curse came loose, and I regained my head. Pavetta was furious. She knew then I had been charmed. She went after Vilgefortz and took his eye with her magic. I was stunned and sick. He kept telling me to get into the porthole, to go to Nilfgaard. I screamed and tried to attack him. His magic hit me and Pavetta went wild. She tried to attack him once more, and he grabbed her by her hair and threw her into the ocean.”

“She screamed at me to help her, and by the gods I was going to, or I was going to die trying.” Emhyr huffed, his voice still strong, but his posture anything but. “I stripped myself of my armor, and made to dive, but he grabbed me. He threw me into the porthole. That was the last I saw of her. Vilgefortz came after me. The coup was already ongoing in my name. When he caught up with me I tried to fight him once more as the curse that held me had wavered.”

“He said ‘there is more than one way to skin an Emperor.’” Emhyr looked back up to Geralt. “He reengaged the curse; changed it, calling on the djinn again. He brought me once more under his power, doing so in the way mages are known for, and that was the last time I had control of myself up till the point where Ciri and I walked away from Stygga.”

Geralt was at war with himself now, fully and completely as silence slipped into the room. He strained for something, anything that could have allowed him to see a falsehood. There were none. Not a single thread of anything that was untrue. Geralt remembered his conversation with Emhyr so clearly. Looking back on it, Emhyr was so exhausted, but even then Geralt had told him he was lying. He thought he had been lying about his reasons, but the fact of the matter was, he was lying about everything. Geralt’s brows narrowed.

“The spell started to break through the middle of our conversation, didn’t it?” Geralt frowned, looking at the Emperor who slowly nodded his head. “You were originally going to call the guard in to finish me off, call the guard to finish off Yennefer, take Ciri and be done with it. You began fighting with yourself then, when you came to suddenly realize you had empathy for me and Yennefer. Something you hadn’t felt in years. You didn’t know what to do, and the spell was still there somewhat so you worked with what you had when you handed me the knife and allowed me to ask Yennefer. Had the spell still been fully active I likely wouldn’t have made it out of that room by your hands.”

The Emperor bowed his head.

“So why did you continue? Why not just hang up your hat and allow for peace?” Geralt asked, eyeing the man. This time Emhyr looked up and his eyes were steel and wrought with iron.

“There will be no peace as long as mages and sorcerers go throughout the world and remain unchecked.” Emhyr growled, fiddling with his clasped hands. “Vilgefortz opened the door for me to see what had been happening around me. Assire var Anahid had been my magical advisor after Vilgefortz was gone. For a time I carried on an affair with her. I know of mages and how they keep their powers, and I know my connection to the Elder Blood makes me an ideal candidate for their use. I will admit fully and completely that I made as if I were in love to keep her guard down and keep out of her spell’s touch. Then I had her create for me something which I carry on me to this day, something that has been checked by Yennefer. I can’t be affected directly by magical manipulation, not any longer.”

Geralt almost felt a sweeping relief at the admission. Emhyr, the White Flame Dancing on the Barrows  of his Enemies, was still there and still just as fierce.

“As soon as word came that Ciri had left this world, and you and Yennefer had died in Rivia, I began my planning in earnest.” Emhyr said. “I needed to take every last one of them down. Start anew. The coup of Thanedd had been a good start to clear their ranks, but somehow, the Lodge formed and all their members wound up surviving, and planning. You realize that all the continents’ leaders are overseen by a single member of the Lodge? Or they were. While the leaders of the north met secretly and began planning my overthrow, and the finding of Ciri to help aid them, I was beyond the influence of their ranks. I was still under Vilgefortz’ influence, but I was able to temper what he could sense through me by allowing myself to focus on the removal of the heads of state.”

“Now, though I was unfettered…” Emhyr said, his smile cruel, “as I was going about planning how I was going to take the Lodge out fully and completely, something happened. You and Yennefer were reported killed in Rivia on the twenty-fifth of September 1268, but then I got reports of sightings of you on the thirteenth of September 1269 at the Ravine of the Hydra. You wound up saving and traveling with another group of witchers, who apparently knew ahead of time where you would come through. Unfortunately for one of them, he met the foul end of a slyzard. After he was well you traveled with one another. I kept an eye on you, I knew you were back after Ciri once more, and I had learned through my spies that Yennefer had been taken by the Hunt as a hostage in an attempt to get Ciri to come out of hiding.”

“You split up for a short time so they could travel southwards to their school and gather more information.” Emhyr said. “The School had been set up by Nilfgaard, something that I had never really paid attention to, but it was something that I had unfettered access to. When they traveled southwards I met them at the school and brought them my proposition.”

Geralt sat upright and looked at Emhyr.

“Wait, the School of the Viper was set up by Nilfgaard?” Geralt asked, his eyes narrowing.

“By my grandfather, Gadiel.” Emhyr said. “The reasons were simple. There have long been actual prophecies about the fate of the empire, and the Wild Hunt tracking the heirs of the Elder Blood. He felt it prudent to keep a school of witchers for use by the royal house if needs be. They were mentioned only minimally by my father, and more of a nuisance and money sink. My grandfather however dictated very clear plans for what they were to achieve. Elimination of the Wild Hunt.”

Geralt felt his mouth going dry once again as Regis stood up and motioned to Emhyr to lean forward.

“This is what I know.” Emhyr grunted slightly as Regis resumed stitching at his back. “The School had been formed under special circumstances, and was brought about through the ministrations of one Zerrikanian sorcerer named Azar Javed. When the witchers eventually began to die off during my father’s rule, and then my rule, he informed my generals that the only way for him to be able to sustain the School was to steal the knowledge from Kaer Morhen. Jacques de Aldersberg, the leader of the Order of the Flaming Rose, created and supported a new group that could act under cover, called Salamandra, who was in turn commissioned to steal the information.  This was a lesser decision, one that never passed my desk; my counsil gave him the go-ahead. Though I am getting ahead of myself just a bit. Long story short for now, the Viper School was Nilfgaardian and that’s why I was able to commission Letho to begin figuring out how to help me rid the world of Mages.”

Letho was told by Ivar, who was starting to lose his mind, that the Red Riders would be celebrating Samhain at the hanged man’s tree in Velen.” Emhyr grimaced as Regis applied a balm to the stitches and began to bandage him. “What none of them, including myself, expected, was that you, when you arrived, offered yourself in exchange for Yennefer. When the gate at the hanged man’s tree closed, Letho, Serrit and Auckes were left with a very angry and very confused Yennefer. When Letho met with his Nilfgaardian contact, they gave him instructions to take her to Toussaint, to Fringilla Vigo, because she could be healed there and regain her memories. Letho did as he was told, however I had also given him explicit instructions not to leave Geralt’s side. He figured, rightly so, that since Geralt was gone, he would be ordered to protect Yennefer at any cost.”

“How is it that no matter what is happening in the world, that woman is somehow involved?” Regis spat as he dragged a chair in front beside Emhyr. “Let me guess, you didn’t instruct anything of the sort, had you known Yennefer was back you would have ordered her back to Nilfgaard with due haste and allowed your own healers to take it from there.”

Emhyr nodded.

“Unfortunately for everyone involved, Fringilla has long wanted power, and has often resorted to extreme measures to get it.” Emyhr spat. “I admire that about my cousin, but only when it compliments me and doesn’t undermine me. The Lodge was after Ciri, attempting to get information about her. Fringilla figured if she had Yennefer as a hostage against the Lodge they couldn’t boot her out for her failures on multiple fronts. Lucky for us, Letho kept a close eye on Yennefer always, despite her trying to push the Viper School witchers against one another. He was true to his task, and when he could he would give me news of what was happening.”

“A week before belleteyn, Ciri reappeared.” Emhyr said, looking over to Ciri, who nodded.

“I had been traveling with Avallac’h.” Ciri said, frowning. “We wound up hiding on a world the Hunt couldn’t get to, one that I had to create a bridge to. There we were trying to hone my magic. It was a harsh place, full of wonders I can’t begin to describe. The occasional magic burst here and there didn’t cause people to blink. I… had a dream you had been taken by Eredin, and he was doing horrible things to you, and you, in turn were doing horrible things to find me. You had come close to getting me, I didn’t recognize you as you wore their colors, had I known it was you…”

“Had you known the mental state I was in at that point in time you would have disowned me.” Geralt’s’ eyes were focused and fierce. “I did terrible things while I was with them. Eredin erased my memory, said he was doing so to calm me down because I flew into a rage and nearly killed Imlerith…”

“Do you remember how you got away?” Ciri asked, looking at Geralt.

“No, I do not. I assumed that Eredin had thrown me out to make me cool down.” Geralt said, looking at his daughter. “But I am guessing by the way you are looking at me that wasn’t the case.”

“I found you, Geralt.” Ciri frowned. “When I found my island of Avalon in shambles, and you and Yennefer nowhere to be found, I blinked away from Avallac’h. I arrived down in Toussaint where I could sense Yennefer, but was held up by Fringilla Vigo. She said that Yennefer lost her memories and that seeing me may be her undoing. I didn’t believe her for a minute, but to be safe I kept myself out of view. When Fringilla wasn’t looking and Yennefer was asleep I slipped a drawing I had given her long ago, that she had kept on her person into her journal. It was the trigger she needed to break out of it. The first thing she remembered was you being taken by the Hunt, so now I knew where to look.”

Geralt felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickling up again.

“I traveled straight to Tir ná Lia, and as soon as I was there Ihuarraquax and the council of unicorn elders met me, they told me where to find you.” Ciri swallowed the look on her face becoming pained. “You were being held in a prison, chained to a strange contraption. You had been whipped… and… other unspeakable things. You couldn’t speak; your mouth had been forced open and was dry. You didn’t recognize me, but when I asked you if you wanted to get out of there with me you nodded. The Hunt had other ideas, it was a trap of course, but Ihuarraquax and I knew it likely would be. I flung you on the unicorn’s back and flung myself through time and space, and that began my running once again from the hunt. Ihuarraquax dropped you at Kaer Morhen, but refused to do little else because you had been tainted by the Hunt.”

Geralt looked at Ciri with wide eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” Geralt asked as his world reeled once more, and memories that had no place settled in order.

“Your temper had already gotten the best of you once when you decided it would be a great idea to revel with the Hunt.” Ciri looked at him coolly. “I know what you did while under their influence, and you can’t deny that a good chunk of it was your own doing. I saw the people you kidnapped, the villages you laid to waste. I knew it wasn’t who you were, but I knew that somewhere in there sleeping was a man at the end of his rope who was willing to do anything to get what he wanted. That is the one thing about the trials that the witchers go through that makes them a force to be reckoned with. You can shove every little bit of your conscience aside to get a job done if necessary, I was a job at that point, and you were willing to do whatever it took to get me back.”

Geralt frowned and sat back, worrying at his lip. Regis’ gentle touch startled him out of his thoughts.

“You judge him unfairly.” Regis said simply. “You are trying to put your own ideal on his. Did you not realize that by the time Geralt had gotten you back the first time he was despondent? Detached? He sacrificed so much to get you, and when he finally got you back, instead of letting his feelings be known about everything he bottled them up. When you went away with Yennefer to meet with the Lodge, he was beside himself, something that you could have easily been prevented. Do you know why he died, back in Rivia?”

Ciri looked to Regis and then back to Geralt, who winced. Regis sent a calming wave of support over the bond, which Geralt seemed to cling to.

“Geralt died because he wanted to.” Regis’ voice was soft. “He had lost everything. Everything he held dear. Even Yennefer at that point, wasn’t dear to him anymore, as she insisted that you travel to meet the Lodge, or else. It was at her insistence that you be trained as a mage, and when she took you away originally it was against his wishes. She flippantly discarded his reasons to train you as a witcher, and more or less told him he was stupid. When you brought him back, and placed him and Yennefer on an island alone, you imprisoned him, with what, in his mind, was the catalyst for all these events. It was torture to him on a grand scale.”

“It has always been about you, Cirilla.” Regis said not unkindly as he looked at the ashen haired witcheress. “No one has stopped once, except for his Wolf School brothers, and the members of the party we traveled with to rescue you, and asked him what he felt. His need to find you, free you, and train you in his image went beyond a simple fatherly drive. You are his child surprise, Ciri. He would have destroyed the world to get you back, and when yet again he was discarded, he felt his life had been forfeit, that’s why he rode with the Hunt. The chance to get you back once more renewed his life, though past events had twisted him to seek you out by any means necessary. Don’t judge him harshly, as you yourself have made many grave errors and killed many innocent people on your path as Falka.”

Ciri winced, her eyes downcast.

“I never knew.” She said softly.

“And you were never meant to know.” Geralt struggled to speak against a lump in his throat and when he finally managed to make a sound his voice sounded fragile and broken. “You were fierce and independent. I was broken and lost. Grief does very strange things to people who don’t know how to control it. I didn’t want to ruin the image you had built up around me as your father.”

“Not a one of us has escaped from our own demons in this situation.” Emhyr said, regarding Geralt and Ciri. “We have all done a great deal of stupid things in order to get to one another. All done with the best intentions in mind, but all done with a breath of desperation that makes one’s logical mind fly out the window.”

All three sat in silence, brooding, till Emhyr attempted to stand and fell back into his chair with a huff. It broke the mood of the room as Regis winced.

“So where do we go from here?” Ciri asked, looking at Geralt and Emhyr in turn.

“Let me continue doctoring Duny for the time being, and we can revisit harsh feelings on another night, when you both are rested.” Regis said. “Talks of this nature, when one is tired or hungry, tend to lead to misunderstandings. Let’s continue where we left off. Duny? I am going to need you to expose the injury on your thigh.”

Regis tapped at his thigh and Emhyr moved to comply. Regis momentarily looked at Ciri, then turned back to Emhyr “Thus…Geralt had re-appeared at Kaer Morhen, we know his story from that point. What happened with Yennefer?”

“Ah yes.” Emhyr shook off the brooding mood that had fallen over the party. “Yennefer had regained her memory thanks to Ciri, but she was still in the griffon’s nest. She made as if she was still under the influence of amnesia, and then gathered Letho, Serrit, and Auckes. She drugged Fringilla’s wine one night, and under the cover of darkness she rode to me. Having recovered her memories, she knew the Wild Hunt could track her with her magic, and so her and her entourage rode on horseback to the City of  Golden Towers. She wasn’t aware that Geralt was alive and counted him dead. No one had told her any different. Her drive to find Ciri was fierce still, and after the Lodge had betrayed her, for the last and final time, she knew where she had to do. She had to find me. I was the only one she knew of that was alive that had a vested interest in Ciri. Unfortunately for her, she was still very much under the impression that I wanted her for immoral means.”

Emhyr got his pants low enough that the large wound on his thigh was exposed. Regis took a look at it and frowned.

“This wasn’t caused by a cat.” Regis said, starting to wash the wound. “This cut was made by a sword.”

“I was attempting to defend myself.” Emhyr had a small smile on his lips. “I got a good hit in, but then when the cat went to spin to defend itself against Ciri, it hit my sword arm and I slipped.”

“Looks like we have our work cut out while you are here, Emhyr.” Geralt said, grinning to him. “I seem to remember you being able to use a sword aptly when you were younger, seems as though you need a refresher.”

“I would actually appreciate it, witcher.” Emhyr sighed, his eyes somewhat defeated. “However I doubt I would have the strength to do any sort of formal practice.”

Geralt’s brow furrowed as Regis began to get new thread and prepare another poultice.

“To continue, Yennefer found her way down to the City of Golden Towers.” Emhyr frowned. “I was not notified right away, and she, and the Vipers were imprisoned. Letho and his band because they had lost Geralt, and Yennefer because I had standing orders to do so should she show up. Unfortunately for all involved, my council took it upon themselves to try and torture information out of her without my consent. Eventually when she all but laughed in their faces, and she insisted that she would only speak to me, they finally told me they had her imprisoned.”

“When I had gotten to her, she was a broken mess.” Emhyr hissed, his brows drawing upwards as he winced in memory. “She began to beg. Something Yennefer of Vengerberg would never do. Her desperation moved me. She told me that the only way she was going to be able to explain things in any sort of coherent detail was if she opened her mind to me. I had heard of mages being able to read minds, but had never heard of one willing to have theirs read. I was intrigued. She warned me that I would get everything, from the time she first started to remember her life, right up to the moments when we touched. I was as desperate as she was to learn news of Ciri. So I agreed.”

“What happened next is difficult to explain.” Emhyr winced as Regis got to work stitching the wound on his thigh. “We released her from her shackles, and she had me place my fingers on her head at the temples. I remember her hair being oily from days of being unwashed, then I remember looking into her eyes. She told me to kiss her, and then I fell into her. I had only had a hold of her for a few minutes, but in those few minutes a lifetime passed from her to me. I knew her life, from her father beating her, her mother disowning her, her attempted suicide when she was admitted to Aretuza, and her poor treatment at the magical school who held her treatments to fix her deformities and the damage she inflicted on herself over her head like a lead weight. I saw her grow into a formidable young woman, and watched as she clawed her way through the magical world, wanting nothing more than to become a mother.”

“I watched failed relationship after failed relationship, and watched as she became bitter and paranoid at everyone’s actions against her.” Emhyr sighed. “She began to think emotions a weakness, and flippantly pretended she didn’t have any, and treated those around her as such, only to get to a point where she would be alone once more, and all the emotion would come boiling out. She hated herself, hated her life. When she first met you Geralt, when you were attempting to fight the djinn, she was thoroughly convinced that she could not love. She had been tracking the djinn’s magic and was under the impression that Dandelion had been the one that had summoned it. She wanted it, wanted to bind it to herself so she could finally get her wish to have a child, and finally get her wish to be allowed to love and feel loved.”

“When she was unable to, she asked if Geralt had wanted to be normal.” Emhyr said, looking up with distant eyes. “She told me later what Geralt’s wish truly was. For her to have a child, however, she couldn’t ask. The djinn, being cruel and manipulative, decided the best thing to do was to tie Geralt and her together, through the future child surprise that Geralt would acquire. The djinn knew the reasons behind Geralt’s wish, but it could also read Yennefer’s intentions, her desire. She thought Geralt had wished for her to love him, and so she played at it. But much like you Geralt, she hated being tied down by destiny, so she would buck wildly and go off in a fit, and leave you hanging. All the while she would fund your contracts.”

Geralt’s eyes widened.

“She funded much of your life in that time.” Emhyr said, looking at Geralt. “Something that she would likely never admit to. She even had your swords repaired. She couldn’t let you starve to death, she loved you, truly and deeply. But it was a twisted love. She saw a conspiracy around every corner, and she still was of the opinion that emotions were a weakness. She was confounded by you, and enchanted by you in turn. She would order you around to try to get you to turn away from her, to reject her. She would treat you poorly, and you, being a witcher with no experience in the world, would allow it and didn’t know any better. But in the end she always ran. When you finally had enough of it, and you finally began figuring out what a real relationship could be and you ran from her, she felt vindicated.”

“That of course all changed the second she learned of your child surprise.” Emhyr narrowed his gaze. “Triss had contacted her in a panicked state. She told Yennefer of the child; her trances and her magic powers, and Triss said she was out of her element. When she met Ciri for the first time at Ellander, it was if her whole world coalesced down to that single moment. When Ciri called her mama for the first time, she knew then what it was like to love. You know the rest of her trials past that point so I won’t elaborate to much more, but needless to say, we shared so much, and I understood her thoroughly in a way I had never had a chance to understand anyone. I knew right then, the second my fingers left her temple, that I wanted nothing more than to give her any and all the love I could spare. I knew down to my core that I could provide that for her, and I knew how.”

“I dismissed my guards, much to their protest, and laid her in a fresh bed of straw on my cloak.” Emhyr said, his eyes clouding once again with memory. “I then stripped myself bare in front of her. The scars she bore in her mind, I bore on my body. I prostrated myself in front of her. She hadn’t even attempted to cast any sort of spell on me and I knew through her mind that she wouldn’t unless I was directly putting Ciri in danger. She didn’t want to manipulate me, I saw it in her mind. All she wanted was to find her daughter. My daughter. I then offered her that which I had never offered anyone freely. My mind.”

“I told her to take it, to take everything.” Emhyr said quietly as Regis began to finish up and apply the poultice. “When she did, and she found out what had happened, she cried. I cried as well. We comforted one another, and I knew then I would never love anyone else. As soon as I could I took her to my healers and had them fix every last piece of damage to her. She had old injuries that had never healed right from when Vilgefortz had her tortured, and injuries that my own men had suffered upon her. The first focus was her hands. One of the things that she needed most, and her magical abilities had been crippled by the lock of tendons and the poor healing of bone. I spared no expense.”

“When she regained the use of every single digit to her elated satisfaction, and the rest of her body was healed, we set about creating a plan to track Ciri, fell the Lodge, and take the north.” Emhyr smiled. “Her thirst for blood against those that had wronged her was as fierce as my own, and we made quite a team. We planned to enlist the Vipers, and I knew how I could do that. I made a bad promise in ignorance, banking on Salamandra to take the information from Kaer Morhen to restart the Viper School. The Vipers agreed.”

“Yennefer, meanwhile, had told me about the workings of the Lodge, and through both her memories and her added thoughts on the matter we came up with the idea that if we killed the kings and queens of the north we could take down the Lodge, and sow distrust for the Lodge.” Emhyr said, his eyes hardening as Regis finished up. “Meanwhile, Yennefer marched right into Philippa Eilhart’s study in Tretogor and demanded to be reinstated into the Lodge. Philippa had thought Yennefer dead, and so the ghost of Yennefer appearing and then informing her of Fringilla’s betrayal of the Lodge, instantly endeared her to their leader. When Philippa flippantly asked who Yennefer represented, Yennefer told her that she represented myself. When Philippa didn’t believe her, Yennefer showed her chain of office she was reinstated at once.”

“There was a meeting of the Lodge then, and while preparations were being made Dijkstra confronted Yennefer, and said he knew she was up to something. She laughed at him and said yes she was, she was going to take down the north and destroy the Lodge. He laughed at her, even though she was telling the truth; poor man didn’t know what to do with it. After that, Yennefer was left to her own devices and found Radovid, who was strolling through his gardens. Yennefer could feel the pull of Philippa’s spell on the young man, who had yet to take position as King. She broke the spell on him, and told him how to defend against it, and thus began the downfall of Redania. The meeting was quick and brutal, and Yennefer’s only request to Radovid was to allow two weeks time to get as far away as possible before he took over as King.”

“When the Lodge finally met, there was one member who was conspicuously absent. One Triss Merigold. Nothing was said about Geralt, and the Lodge, though accepting of Yennefer as a member, were not about to throw it all away by letting her know he was back and in the arms of this same Triss Merigold. They knew she would fly to him and repair his mind, yet keeping him ignorant served the Lodge’s purposes so much better than having him ready to buck up at them when they attempted once again to recruit and manipulate Ciri.”

“And now you know everything.” Emhyr said, looking at Geralt with tired eyes. “You experienced the rest yourself. What you didn’t experience, Ciri, or Yennefer, told you. We are still in the midst of the battle against the Lodge. Right now, Yennefer is its leader, and so long as she calls the shots they are safe. A few key members of these sorceresses will be immune to retribution for now. Triss Merigold among them, as she is the adviser to King Tankred, who rules the only nation that can compete with Nilfgaard at the moment. Kovir also houses the university of Lan Exeter and provides a safe haven to all the mages that were exiled from the lands after the seeds of distrust were sown and Radovid went after them.”

“Also immune is Keira Metz, who has currently shown her worth by creating and distributing the plague cure and inoculation. She will be set up as advisor to Roche, now that I have placed him in power as the leader Temeria and Redania.”

“Deaths so far have been Síle de Tansarville, whom Letho killed. Francesca Findabair, who though not dead, may as well be, as she contracted the plague and is currently set to die the second I confirm her replacement in Dol Blathanna. Assire var Anahid, whom I ordered killed at Loc Muinne. And last but not least are those who are currently awaiting execution, though none of them know it. Fringilla Vigo, for numerous crimes. Ida Emean aep Sivney, for her refusal to help when the Lodge was called upon to defend the world from the White Frost and Wild Hunt, and Philippa Eilhart for leading the coup at Thanedd, as well as trying to displace Yennefer as my advisor.”

“What is the point of all this?” Geralt asked, regarding Emhyr. “What will their deaths bring? Don’t get me wrong, I have no love lost for those you listed, but what is the overall goal?”

“It’s simple.” Ciri piped up this time. “There needs to be accountability for the mages; they have unlimited power when they are grouped together and stand as one. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but when people start to force their ideals solely for personal gain, that’s when there are issues. They think they are above the law. What standing does a simple farmer have against a mage who can manipulate magistrates to take their lands for their own amusement?”

“Yennefer plans on creating a committee that is headed by herself, together with the Kings, Queens, Dukes, and Duchesses of Nilfgaard, establishing a magical and non-magical senate with representatives from each capital. Magic is a privilege, not a right. If someone takes advantage of it there needs to be a system to prevent that.” Emhyr said, nodding to Ciri. “They will form a mage’s codex that all will have to adhere to. There are spells in the works to keep people in check magically.”

“And what of your takeover?” Regis asked, looking at Emhyr with calm eyes. “One would say that a single man taking over the world is pretty megalomaniacal.”

“Do you have any idea how large this world is, vampire?” Emhyr asked, looking at Regis.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Regis answered, puffing up.

“And how much of the world is currently Nilfgaard?” Emhyr asked, regarding Regis as the vampire materialized again. Regis thought for a bit and frowned.

“At the moment? If I had to venture a guess, maybe under one fortieth.” Regis replied.

“A good guess, but nowhere near close.” Emhyr said, looking at Regis. “By my estimate we have only discovered a fraction of this world. We know of the borders of this continent, only by word of mouth and by map makers that I have sent out. My goal is to take as much as I can, and instate an empire that is run by its people.” Emhyr said. “On this continent? We have taken maybe one sixteenth of the land. But the land I have taken? The land that is ruled by my house? The people have healthcare, schools, roads, trade beyond imagining. New technologies, non magical technologies have begun to be created that will one day lead to fantastical discoveries. If we control magic, and those that wield it, if we listen to the elves of old and stop destroying and polluting everything we touch, stop hunting animals to extinction, we can save this world and prepare it for what is to come.” Emhyr said. “This world as we know it is a basin, the lowest delta in a river to which all other worlds flow. The conjunctions are the opening of dams to allow pressure off of other worlds. Who knows what will come through in time, and we need to be united to face any and all threats that may or may not come through.”

“ _That_ is the reason why this is happening now.” Emhyr said, looking at Geralt and Regis. “It seems like a megalomaniacal monster taking over the world for his own gain, but what is my own gain if the world is left in ruin for generations to come?”

Geralt sighed and sat back. A lot of information had come in a short amount of time. He now sat in confusion, his thoughts at war with what he had believed Emhyr to be, and who the man actually was. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Glancing to Emhyr and Ciri, he fretted.

“What do you think about all of this?” He asked Ciri, who blinked at him.

“I have yet to form a proper opinion on it.” Ciri said. “There are too many unknowns, too much happening at once. To top off all of his political intrigue, we also have yours, the elves, and everything else. I feel very small right now in the presence of powers I can’t hope to shift. I would like to sit down with you and talk about all this because there are things I need to understand. My dreams Geralt, they have been dark. Shadows sleep in them. The end is black, and I need to figure out why, otherwise…”

“What you need above all else right now is that which you sought earlier to insist upon your blood father.” Regis said, looking at Ciri. “Both of you, Duny and yourself, are skirting a razor’s edge. I will go over both of your ailments tomorrow when you rise, but for now you need rest and recuperation. We can speak of this more in depth another day.”

“You are welcome in my home, father of my child.” Geralt said, looking at Emhyr. “You have broken bread with us, shared tales with us, and drank with us. What is mine to give, I shall: I swear this on the Heron.”

Emhyr nodded at the formal proclamation.

When Regis’ hands rested on Geralt’s shoulders he found himself leaning into the touch and closing his eyes. Both he and Regis’ minds had reached the point of being encumbered and both of them were craving touch to ground themselves.

“Come on Regis, let’s find BB.” Geralt said, looking up to Regis who was looking down to him. “Need to get a mattress up here for Ciri.”


	39. sparring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Regis are presented with an opportunity to hunt, and Geralt has a chat with Ciri.
> 
> "Geralt stood up and Regis was on top of him once more, hissing and biting, his claws moving furiously. He tried once again to sweep Geralt’s legs out from under him. Geralt cast Aard and propelled himself up into the air and backwards. He came to a sliding stop and launched himself forward. Regis’ arms were open and he pounced. Geralt ducked and thrust his sword forward. The strike was swift and true.
> 
> Regis was impaled on Geralt’s sword. The vampire looked down, stunned as blood started to flow, then grinned. Geralt stood open-mouthed, and surprise and genuine fear raced through him when Regis pushed himself against Geralt’s blade till the hilt stopped at his chest.
> 
> “Just what will a witcher do without his sword, hmmm?” Regis purred, then jerked himself and the sword out of Geralt’s grip."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***********
> 
> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!  
>  ****
> 
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff
> 
>  
> 
> **************  
> 
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**
> 
> Spar and blood  
> Frank discussion of gender dysphoria  
> mentions of cousin incest (Ciri/morvran)
> 
> ****************

Geralt slowly woke up. Groggily he looked down and smiled upon seeing Regis tucked into his chest, snoring softly. The position the vampire was in couldn’t have been comfortable; his arms were pinned awkwardly against Geralt with one sticking out from between their stomachs, and the other was slowly kneading the hair on Geralt’s chest. Geralt sighed happily and wrapped his free arm around his mate, then buried his nose in the vampire’s unruly dark hair. He kissed him softly on the head and held him tight, and an overwhelming feeling that Geralt had no name for ripped through him.

Regis nuzzled into him closer, the bond still buzzing with deep sleep. The feeling intensified and Geralt’s hold tightened. Regis, still asleep, made a happy little sound.

Geralt felt his mind wandering to the conversation of the previous evening. As much as he was loath to admit it, Emhyr had spoken the truth; he was a victim. He hadn’t really believed Yennefer when she said as much, but hearing it from the man’s own mouth had pulled a switch in Geralt’s mind, and try as he might to un-pull it, to turn it off, he realized that he wanted to believe the Emperor. He knew exactly why he had been fighting it too. The Emperor, for so long, had represented what Geralt considered true evil. A solid dark amidst the grays that Geralt could cling to as a meter of gauging other peoples’ actions.

Now though, that had changed. He couldn’t group him in with the evil any longer. Much like most of the rulers that still lived in the north, Emyhr was driven to action by his council and his own hand; doing what was expected of him. The foundations that his empire was being built on were laid through the labor of thousands of people, slaves mostly, of whom many died for their efforts; his council was responsible for that though, not necessarily Emhyr himself. Hearing what Emhyr said about his hope for the future keyed Geralt in on what the man was truly seeking. However, Emhyr was in the dark about one key element that could easily upend everything.

The vampires.

He would have to tell Emhyr about the true scope and scale of the vampire threat sooner rather than later. Regis’ concern that the Elder was moving to potentially take over and resume human suppression ticked at Geralt’s mind. That was Geralt’s job in all this; he had to let Emhyr and Yennefer handle the human end of things. He and Regis needed to figure out what they were going to do. Regis’ startled realization a few days previous that he was willing to become an icon for a potential vampire rebellion, plagued at Geralt’s mind. How were they going to fight the Elder if they couldn’t even come up with a half-baked plan to lure Orianna out of hiding?

Geralt didn’t get a chance to think on it further before his amulet buzzed long and hard and Eskel’s voice broke through.

“Geralt?” Geralt shifted a bit, letting Regis go. The vampire’s mind slipped into wakefulness nearly instantly as Geralt sat up and debated whether or not he was going to answer Eskel.

“Geralt look, this is important, and I know you are listening.” Eskel growled, his metallic voice causing Geralt to frown. “We discovered a cult that didn’t believe in medical intervention. They all purposefully contracted the plague, and they threw the bodies into the sewers as their followers slowly died. Last night there was a large-scale necrophage attack outside of the Nilfgaardian embassy and we have been tasked to clean it up. It’s going to be a several day job, as there is a new type of necrophage I have never seen before. We have it handled, but there is another issue that has come up. There is a large group of bandits that have taken residence at those ruins that you told us about. Because of that we haven’t been able to get that metal you were speaking of.”

Geralt felt himself traveling down the thread to see through Eskel’s eyes. He was standing in an alleyway with all the Wolf School witchers and Letho. Geralt backed out and plucked at Lambert’s thread.

“Look to your right Eskel, that’s what I think right now.” Geralt said as he viewed Eskel’s reaction through Lambert’s eyes. Lambert was flipping him off.

There was a sudden rolling laughter from Lambert as Geralt backed out. He could hear it through the amulet.

“Ha! Petty, Geralt. Petty but well played.” Lambert laughed. Geralt felt himself grinning as Regis sat up and listened.

“This isn’t the time for jokes, Geralt!” Eskel barked, his voice carrying an edge.

“Tell him I fought one of those new necrophages earlier.” Regis said sleepily. “They shoot bile that is so basic and so foul smelling they will need masks to operate and not lose their stomachs. Tell him also that any sort of common acid, even as one as simple as orange juice put on their blades wreck their constitution and make them easy to kill.” Regis yawned. “Also tell him that it’s rude to interrupt people that are sleeping. You witchers need to respect the boundaries we have in place. We told the palace that we were out of commission, they should be figuring…”

Regis’ eyes got wide.

“Wait, the ruins… did he say there are bandits at Tesham Mutna?” Regis was suddenly clinging to Geralt’s shoulder.

“I can hear you clearly, vampire.” Eskel drawled, irritation coming through the amulet. “And yes, we wouldn’t be asking for help, but we will be stretched thin otherwise.”

Geralt grinned when Regis let him know what he planned.

“We will do it, Eskel, consider your bandit problem solved.” Geralt laughed, a giddy elation building up in his stomach. “I will contact you when the task is complete.”

“Thanks White Wolf, I owe you one.” Eskel sighed, relief evident in his voice.

“You owe me a lot more than one. I will send Ciri once she is awake.” Geralt grumbled, then severed the link with a quick tap of his amulet.

“This is perfect, Geralt.” Regis grinned, his eyes wide and his fingers working the air in excitement. “The full moon is tonight, and no vampire will go anywhere near Tesham Mutna! It’s perfect! We can hunt there!”

Geralt scratched at his tangled hair and looked at Regis nervously; giddy energy lacing through him.

“What will this entail?” Geralt asked, releasing a puff of air. “Their fates are sealed already so I have no qualms with killing, but what can I expect? I… have only really just _sipped_ , I suppose, from people. How much can I drink?”

“You can drink as much as you can stomach, Geralt. In fact, I encourage it.” Regis licked at his fangs and shuddered. “But this isn’t just about that. We need to see what you can do, truly. The full moon brings about the height of our powers; we need to bring about a state of psychokinetic arousal in you. This will only be achieved if you get blood, smell blood, taste blood. We need to know what your limits are, and how much control you can exert over yourself when you are in frenzy. We already know addiction will not take you, thanks to your witcher mutations; your body will not allow it. We just need to test you in a controlled environment.”

“And you think that you will be able to control me?” Geralt asked earnestly, looking at Regis, who grinned in turn.

“I know I will be able to, Geralt.” Regis said, his mouth curving in a knowing smile. “I have a weapon in my arsenal you can’t refuse. Though… if worse comes to worse we will be on top of Tesham Mutna, so I can easily cage you if necessary.”

The cryptic response and the smugness radiating off of Regis’ end of the bond did nothing to calm Geralt’s fears. He brooded for a moment before he looked to Regis, and then grinned himself.

“Let’s test it.” Geralt said, hefting himself off the bed.

“I… wouldn’t want to test it right now.” Regis was hesitant. “Ciri is asleep, as is Duny.”

Geralt shot him a look as he grabbed the manticore set of armor that he kept in his closet.

“Sparring, Regis.” Geralt grinned. “If I am to be sure you can control me, let’s test it. I need to build up my defenses against vampires anyway. Your way of fighting is to disable completely, I need to know how to defend against it as I keep getting bit.”

Regis thought for a minute as Geralt began clothing himself.

“Yes, that’s a splendid Idea!” Regis chirped. “A good way to start the day is a bit of exercise. Rules first: steel sword, no oils, as it is much easier for me to recover from if you spear me through, and you _must_ try. I won’t hold back. You know you won’t permanently injure me.”

“Ok, and rules for me.” Geralt said. “The spar resets if I strike a fatal blow to you, or you get me by the neck. No actual blood draws from my neck though, and you have to avoid striking fatal blows at me.”

“And another one, you cannot take that ring off.” Regis motioned to the ring as he grabbed a set of Geralt’s field clothes. “You may find yourself in a position where revealing your nature will be more of a detriment than whatever vampire you face.”

When they were both ready they silently headed outside. The sun was low in the sky and a cool fog was dissipating as the workers of the vineyard raised themselves. Most of the decorations and tables from the night before had been stacked neatly against the side of the house, though the grounds would need a once-over.

Geralt faced Regis and grinned, then bowed.

Geralt took a defensive stance, his steel sword drawn. Regis took his own stance, hissed, then changed in an instant. Sparks flew off his claws and he charged.

It was all Geralt could do to hold him off as Regis pushed forward. His claws whizzed by his head as Geralt spun out of their reach, only to spin straight into Regis’ grip. Regis pressed his face against Geralt’s neck, and then he turned into mist and reappeared back at his starting point. It lasted less than twenty seconds.

“Again.” Geralt said, taking a stance, this time a bit looser, with his hand outstretched.

Regis charged once again, but this time Geralt was able to parry. They danced around each other for a few minutes, with Geralt defending against Regis aptly. However, Geralt had focused on his claws and when Regis swept in low and knocked his legs out from under him he fell to the ground with an undignified _oof_. Regis again turned to mist and placed himself back at his starting point. Geralt pulled himself back up and took another stance.

“Again!” They did the song and dance three times more. Geralt was ‘bit’ twice, and was sent sprawling by a well-aimed kick to his midsection.

On the third time Regis crossed his arms and irritation came through the bond.

“You are not even trying, Geralt!” Regis called out. They had gained an audience of curious workers. Geralt glanced at the door to the estate. Emhyr and Ciri stood on the threshold, their eyes wide. Geralt started grinning as he regarded Regis.

“Now… let’s begin.” Geralt took a wide stance. He motioned at Regis to attack and Regis barreled forwards. Geralt called on his witcher mutations, sealed the bond, and allowed them to take root. As Regis charged Geralt ducked under his grip, spun, and struck Regis with his sword hard across the back. Regis roared. Geralt let go of his sword and changed his grip, slashing as Regis came back around with a reverse grip. Regis dodged and slashed at Geralt with his claws. Geralt activated Quen and the vampire was pushed aside.

That broke the dam. Regis flew at him, a whir of claws and angry hissing. Geralt in turn flew at the vampire, crashing and slashing against him as Regis tried to get ahold of Geralt. He pushed back against Regis as the crowd that gathered cheered. When Regis grinned at him Geralt felt his stomach drop out. Regis turned to mist and appeared behind him. Geralt thrust backwards before launching himself into a roll. The crowd gasped. He felt Regis behind him and dropped down, sweeping the ground with a kick. Regis jumped into the air, his inhuman strength putting him out of Geralt’s reach. He turned to mist again.

Geralt blasted at the mist with Igni and Regis tumbled to the ground with a grunt. Geralt pushed forward, sending Regis into a defensive stance of twirls and whirls almost too fast to see. He switched his grip once again. Regis spun around and grabbed Geralt by the shoulder, attempting to use his momentum to throw him to the ground. Geralt hooked his leg on the way down and Regis roared and fell. Geralt rolled and jumped up, slashing at Regis, who turned into mist once again as Geralt spun and cast Igni once more. Regis appeared in front of him and thrust his claws forward. Geralt barely managed to dodge and felt a stinging seething pain across his unscarred cheek. He rolled to the side and cast an exploding Quen. Regis hit it and was blown backwards. A cry went through the crowd.

Geralt stood up and Regis was on top of him once more, hissing and biting, his claws moving furiously. He tried once again to sweep Geralt’s legs out from under him. Geralt cast Aard and propelled himself up into the air and backwards. He came to a sliding stop and launched himself forward. Regis’ arms were open and he pounced. Geralt ducked and thrust his sword forward. The strike was swift and true.

Regis was impaled on Geralt’s sword. The vampire looked down, stunned as blood started to flow, then grinned. Geralt stood open-mouthed, and surprise and genuine fear raced through him when Regis pushed himself against Geralt’s blade till the hilt stopped at his chest.

“Just what will a witcher do without his sword, hmmm?” Regis purred, then jerked himself and the sword out of Geralt’s grip.

Geralt yelped as Regis spun, the sharp end of the sword sticking out of his back and creating a macabre vision and an effective defense against rear aimed strikes. The crowd screamed, startled voices rising up as Regis began to attack and push at Geralt once again. Geralt dodged and rolled out of the way of his strikes but he had no way to attack. Cursing, he seethed as Regis struck out at him. He saw his opportunity as Regis went in for a killing strike. He used the flat of his palm to knock the claws aside and put Regis off balance. Regis’ other hand was coming up but it was too slow. Geralt grabbed Regis’ claws at the base where they were dull and dropped them both to the ground, bringing his legs up. Regis pitched forward, caught off balance. Geralt grabbed at his sword and placed his feet on Regis’ hips. A push from his legs and a blast of Aard sent Regis flying overhead, finally dislodging Geralt’s sword.

Geralt used the momentum from his fall to roll himself backwards and back upright again. He knew he left himself open and he spun his sword, changing his grip again. He thrust backwards right as Regis’ lips met his neck. The sickening squelching sound let him know he hit his mark as Regis stilled.

“Not bad, witcher.” Regis purred in his ear. Geralt felt a thrill go up his spine as the scent of rain and arousal filled the air. Geralt threw the bond back open. Regis chuckled and pulled away. Geralt turned and looked at Regis, who grinned and bowed as he regained his human form.

“Geralt, what is the meaning of this!” Barnabas-Basil burst through the crowd as Geralt began to pant, the fight finally catching up to him.

“Sparring, B.B.” Geralt said, looking over to the doorway. Ciri was wearing a stupid grin and made a thumbs-up sign. Emhyr was staring at the both of them, wide-eyed.

“Master Regis has been run through!” Barnabas practically shrieked.

“I assure you, master Foulty, I am perfectly fine.” Regis said, stripping off the bloodstained and torn shirt, rolling it in a ball and wiping at his back and front where Geralt had stabbed him through. There were no wounds, not even the hints of one.

“But I saw it… your sword, it was stuck in him.” Barnabas stammered, looking at Regis and then back to Geralt.

“When I said he was a vampire B.B, I meant it.” Geralt grinned as Regis pulsed with satisfaction. “What did you think I meant when I told you that?”

Regis tossed Geralt the ruined shirt and Geralt wiped off his sword before sheathing it, then turned towards the house. Emhyr’s face was set in a grim line as he turned and headed back inside.

“I… didn’t expect that.” Barnabas-Basil said quietly as Geralt turned towards Regis.

Regis was back to looking unassuming. Now, without his shirt, one could see the lean muscle underneath the thick fuzz that covered his chest and arms. He turned towards the crowd and waved at them.

“I am fine really, don’t fret.” He called out. The crowd cheered slightly and Barnabas-Basil turned towards them.

“First day of the harvest!” The majordomo called. “Let’s get to it!”

The workers scattered, mumbling to themselves as they headed back to the workshops and the fields.

Geralt turned to the house, his stomach making a loud noise of protest.

“Geralt de Corvo Bianco, I understand that you are quite pleased with the idea that master Regis and yourself do not have to hide amongst your staff, but have a heart and think of the people that will be on this property today!” Barnabas-Basil was beside himself, chasing after Geralt with Regis trailing behind him, a smug look on his face. “The workers will be here within the hour to work on the baths, and the actuary is on his way today!”

Geralt stepped inside the house, ignoring Barnabas Basils’ ranting. The scullery maid was placing food out onto the small table. Ciri’s bed was still in the middle of the floor with a quilt and sheets flopped haphazardly. Geralt grinned as he found Ciri standing behind Emhyr, who had removed the chaperon he had been wearing. Emhyr was staring up at Geralt with a calculated gaze as Regis stole back into the bedroom to grab another shirt.

“Pretty impressive, huh?” Geralt asked, taking a seat at the table and regarding Emhyr and Ciri. He was feeling smug, feeling good.

“I’ll say.” Ciri was running her fingers through Emhyr’s hair. Geralt tilted his head.

“I almost want to test myself against him to see how he would fare against my techniques.” Ciri nodded to herself minutely before grabbing ahold of something within Emhyr’s hair and yanking fiercely. Emhyr winced. Ciri set the offending item into a small bowl filled with water. Geralt reached over to the bowl and plucked one of the things out.

“Quills?” Geralt asked confused, looking to Emhyr, who actually blushed and looked away. Ciri hissed and forced his head back into position.

“You wanted me to remove them, so stop moving!” She scolded, determination settling on her features.

“The curse may have been lifted and I no longer change, however there are residuals – I am guessing from being trapped in that form for so long.” Emhyr growled, hissing again as Ciri pulled another quill from his hair. “Every morning without fail I have several of those annoyances on my form. The closer it is to the full moon, the more I get. Without Mererid here I have to depend on the kindness of wayward children to remove them.”

The thought of the daily routine tickled Geralt more than he would have liked to admit. He felt the grin sneaking to his face and looked at the Emperor, who clenched his teeth and looked down.

“Really Geralt, don’t tease him.” Ciri gave another quill a hard yank, causing Emhyr to grip the chair and call out.

“Easy girl!” He hissed, embarrassment flooding his cheeks.

When Regis rejoined them they ate. The conversation turned to Toussaint and Beauclair and the Emperor began to quiz Geralt on the comings and goings of the vassal state. The conversation was easy, and much to Geralt’s surprise the Emperor didn’t contradict him once. He listened, added snippets here and there, but he never scoffed. When breakfast was over Barnabas-Basil had the bath brought in and brought up to the guest room for Emhyr. When Regis offered to shave the Emperor’s new salt and pepper beard that was sprouting, he declined.

Past that point Geralt knew they would be splitting up. Regis was chomping at the bit to resume work on unraveling the mysteries of the healing potion, and Geralt needed to talk with Ciri. When Geralt came down the stairs from heating Emhyr’s bath Ciri was waiting for him with her arms crossed.

“Let’s go for a walk.” Geralt was looking at the green eyed witcheress.

She smirked.

Geralt took them into the gardens where a chaise lounge had been set up in the greenhouse. He offered her a seat, and one of the maids of the house brought a carafe of coffee and a small plate of pastries.

“You and I have much to discuss.” Geralt said, taking a seat and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

Ciri looked nervous and tucked her hair behind her ear, crossing her arms and legs.

“We do.” Ciri said, looking at him with hard eyes. “You moved rather quickly with Regis.”

“May seem that way, but this has been building for years.” Geralt was looking at her, raising his brow. “I seem to remember you being charmed by the idea.”

“That was before…” Ciri worried at her lip. “You, you are starting to get more and more hazy in my dreams. There were many paths, but something has changed, and where before you were clear, now it’s like you are smoke. I know it’s you, I can see you, interact with you, but at the same time it’s different. Seeing your changes last night…”

“It’s a lot to take in, and I am still feeling it out.” Geralt rubbed at his wrist on the opposite side of where he had the rune. He could feel another setting inside. “The truth of the matter is Eskel and Yennefer have been keeping something from me for years. Something that I probably should have known about long before now. What you saw last night? My changes? It’s because of my second trial. Yennefer knew a little, what Vesemir apparently told her. And Eskel, well…”

Ciri’s eyes widened. Geralt’s eyes narrowed for a moment looking off into the distance.

“Has Eskel been trying to get your amulet?” The way Ciri froze and reached for the wolf’s head told him all he needed to know.

“Well yes… but…” Ciri started.

“Did he tell you why?” Geralt looked back to her as she gripped it.

“He told me that it was needed for a task.” She said. “I tried to pull more info from him, but he insisted that Vesemir left him in charge and that by all rights after the fire died he should have been the one to claim it. Seems like a stretch, and the way he said it, it put me on edge. You guys… all of you are terrible liars, but I know he would never take it from me outright.”

“There is a room in Kaer Morhen where the secrets of what I was put through are being kept.” Geralt looked at Ciri to gauge her reaction. “The only way to access it apparently is through that amulet. Eskel was tasked by Vesemir to keep a “watch” on me. As was Yennefer. You know what that means don’t you?”

Ciri swallowed and nodded. It was a death warrant if he had stepped out of line.

“The amulet has other powers as well, as I know you have noticed by now.” Geralt said, looking at Ciri as she took the amulet off. “It serves as the center point for location, and locating other witchers. It’s a master’s amulet, the only one in existence that I know of at the moment that can be used to call the other witcher schools. It has darker powers as well.”

“I can hear them all the time.” Ciri said quietly. “Sometimes I answer, other times I just let them talk. It’s how I located them. All of them. I still hold out hope that somewhere out there is a witcher or two with no amulet who is just wandering around lost.”

“You were calling them all together for Yennefer?” Geralt’s voice was iron as Ciri startled and looked to Geralt with wide eyes. “I know of her desire to restart the witcher schools, and I know now why you are back on the Trial of the Grasses. When you were young and we had started the trials with you, it would have changed you permanently. No girl has ever left the keep, only witchers. Triss was absolutely right that continuing you down the path to become a witcher would have altered you permanently. Now that you are grown I am not sure what effect the Grasses will have.”

“They already had had a profound effect when you stopped.” Ciri said quietly, looking to Geralt. “I found a book one time, in that office that you say that Vesemir kept locked up. I stole his amulet while he was sleeping and I found a book about female witchers. I stole it away in my room and read it from front to back. And then kept reading it. The mushrooms, herbs and dressings you had given me, which I now take on a regular basis, had they continued being given to me they would have put a stop to my development as a female. You can’t believe the secret elation I felt at that prospect. From the time I was a little girl, the only thing anyone could ever talk about was who I was to marry. When I was living with you at the keep I looked around me and I saw nothing but strong men. There was nothing I wanted more in my life at that time than to look like you, smell like you, and fight like you. I knew what was coming in my life and I dreaded it.”

“I felt like I had been robbed.” Ciri said, looking away. “When Triss came in there and found out I was on my month’s blood, and then told me that I had to stop the trials otherwise it would harm me, I wish I had known then what I did now. They wanted me fertile. Triss was a part of the beginnings of the Lodge then, and she made me think that I needed to be a woman, that I _wanted_ to be a woman. And yet, as I grew older and studied under Yennefer, I grew more and more confused.”

“It was later when I finally came to accept the changes in me that are female.” Ciri sighed. “But accepting them, and wishing I could go back and tell Triss to shove it, are two different things. I had a long talk with Yennefer about my feelings on the matter. She said there were ways to change, but now that’s on the table I am not sure about it. I would rather just continue on with the trials.”

Geralt nodded. He had felt an otherness as well throughout his years. The feeling wasn’t unknown to him. And now even more so. He smiled slightly and looked to her.

“I still have that book.” Ciri was smiling. “I squirreled it away, even though now there is no chance of me going back to what I could have been.”

“Have you noticed any changes since you started back?” Geralt asked, curiosity taking him over.

“So far, subtle changes.” Ciri nodded. “But that’s what the trial was meant for, to change subtlety in the short term, and dramatically in the long term. I am more muscled now than I ever was. I feel calmer, more controlled. I sweat more, sweat all the time actually. And my sense of touch has changed. Outside of that I have more hair everywhere, not that you can see it, and the hair I do have is becoming thicker, courser.”

“Judging from your proclivities, you have also had an increase in libido.” Geralt said, grinning. “Really? Morvran? He is your cousin, Ciri.”

“I knew you would give me shit about that.” Ciri groused. “He is a cousin sure, but I have absolutely zero connection to him as such.

They sat in silence for a moment before Ciri spoke again.

“There are several more things I wish to tell you, but I have to wait. One I can tell you now, though. You remember when I went through the door to defeat the White Frost?”

“Yeah…” Geralt answered, wincing at the memory.

“Before I stepped into that door, Avallac’h unlocked my magic.” Geralt’s eyes widened as Ciri angled her fingers and a pulse from Geralt’s amulet let him know magic was incoming. To emphasize her point she had cast a perfect Quen over Geralt and herself under the roof of the greenhouse.

Geralt was speechless, staring wide eyed at Ciri who was looking at him, her eyes glassy with nervousness as she worried at her lip. Geralt stood up, swept her up into his arms and laughed.

“I can’t believe it!” Geralt called out, swinging her around in a circle beneath the Quen, still laughing. Ciri laughed against him and embraced him back as he set her back down on the ground. He hugged her close and kissed her head as she laughed against him.

“I thought you would be angry for keeping it from you for so long.” Ciri’s voice was muffled against his shirt.

“How could I be angry when it was the final piece of the puzzle missing beyond the trials?” Geralt laughed, pride swelling through him. “This is astounding Ciri! We never thought you would be able to control the magic enough to be able to do this! I am so proud of you! How did you figure it out?”

Geralt set her down and took a seat on the chaise lounge. Ciri settled in beside him, still grinning.

“I told you that when I went to fight the White Frost, while only a few hours passed here, a few years passed in that frozen wasteland.” Ciri’s eyes were distant, despite the smile on her face. “The place was empty, but full of things left over from the society that opened the door to the White Frost. I found food and shelter fairly early on. In fact it was a place so full of food in such a concentrated area I almost didn’t need to move for months. I was able to experiment without the risk of harming anyone. The first thing I mastered was Igni, the rest followed in short order. I still can’t use true magic fully yet, as I pull too much energy, but the signs are a way to allow simple access.”

“Who else knows?” Geralt looked at the ashen haired witcheress with new respect.

“Only you… and Regis.” Ciri said, looking to Geralt.

“How does Regis know?” Geralt’s brows furrowed as he asked, finally giving in and getting a pastry off the plate. Ciri did the same.

“Has he told you of the rescue of his friend yet?” Ciri asked tentatively.

“No,” Geralt sighed. “The memory is too painful still to revisit without him getting agitated. I got a piece of it inadvertently when the bond first formed and it wasn’t pretty. I know you were there, and what I saw of Dettlaff was...”

“It was worse than even that Geralt, but I will let him go over it with you when he is ready.” Ciri nodded. “Needless to say up to that point, I had to use Quen to gain access to the stronghold. I used bombs to blast the door down. I also used every trick in my book to defeat the men. Regis was of little help. He said he couldn’t fight without risk of going into a bloodlust and he also got immobilized with several runes… He didn’t want take me out inadvertently.”

Geralt nodded and looked at Ciri, studying her as she chewed the pastry. The softness of youth was finally leaving her, kissing her last farewell with her still rounded cheeks. Her jaw had become more defined, her cheekbones more pronounced; her elven blood coming in at full now that she was on the path fulltime. Her arms were now scarred; defensive wounds, some of which Geralt had been there to see, others which he had not. He felt his jaw set as he realized that half of the scars she did have would have been nothing had she gone through the trials.

“Whatever you choose to do Ciri, I will support you.” Geralt said, startling Ciri out of her thoughts.

“What do you mean?” Ciri asked, genuinely confused and looking up at him with a mouth full of pastry. She looked like a hamster. Somewhere far off a memory of a long night and a camp fire crept up. Geralt sighed and rubbed the back of his head, feeling oddly apprehensive.

“I know what starting back on the Trial of the Grasses means, I know what gathering the witchers means.” Geralt’s voice was more steady than he felt at the moment. Ciri had a blush running up her neck. “You were robbed of a choice. Now the choice is yours. Yennefer can lead you through the trials. She is competent, more so than sometimes I give her credit for. I am hesitant for your sake only because I saw what happened to the boys before me, and after me, but I give you my blessing.”

Whatever Geralt was prepared for, Ciri bursting into tears wasn’t it. Suddenly it was as if he was back at Kaer Morhen dealing with the little girl he had carried away from war. She reached for him as instantly as he reached for her, and they fell into an embrace. Geralt stroked at her hair, which still smelled of sweat, road dust and blood.

“I… I couldn’t ask you.” Ciri hiccupped. “I have been so nervous for so long. When Yennefer said she wanted to restart the witcher schools, I volunteered as her first subject. You should have seen how she blew up at me. She teleported me into the Ismena. I had to hike back sodden, full of leaches and ticks. We got into such a row about it I thought she would disown me. When that happened I was so afraid to approach you because I knew she would have an ally if you said no.”

Geralt laughed and stroked her head.

“Did she agree?” Geralt asked. Ciri gave a sour look.

“She did so only if you said yes.” Ciri wiped at her eyes and chuckled slightly. “She didn’t even fathom that you would agree.”

“Ciri.” Geralt started, pulling her back and looking at her. “You are an adult. You hold the reins to your own destiny. Not me, not Yennefer, not Emhyr. _You_. The choice is yours. You can even decide that you are just not interested in it and want to be Empress. Or that you want to go off and go frolicking in Tir ná Lia with your unicorn friends. We stopped being your dictators as soon as you reached the age of majority.”

Ciri laughed at the thought and sniffed, laying her head low. Geralt lifted her chin up.

“You are in control, Ciri.” Geralt willed his words into her. “Not me. You. And I would never stand in the way of what you would want as long as it didn’t involve you turning into a monster, human or otherwise.”

Ciri nodded and hiccupped again before leaning back into his embrace. They sat for a few seconds before Geralt heard approaching footsteps and someone asking where he had gone.

“Ciri, I hate to do this, but I am going to be called away to do who knows what.” Geralt sighed, pulling himself away from her. “There are two things I need to address. I need to exchange amulets with you. After this whole ordeal with the Emperor is over I plan on going to Kaer Morhen and figure out what is happening with me. I’ll only need it while I figure things out, then I will return it to you. In the meanwhile you can keep mine.”

Geralt took his amulet off and put it in his palm. Ciri looked at him then nodded, her eyes becoming determined.

“Yes, this is for the best.” Ciri took her amulet off and handed it to Geralt. “I don’t want Eskel to get ahold of it, don’t get me wrong, I love him like a brother but…”

“You know it will be safe with me.” Geralt said, slipping his amulet over her head. He placed his palm over it and pulsed a small amount of magic into it to let it know it had a new owner. It vibrated for a minute and Ciri looked down, surprised.

Geralt then placed Vesemir’s amulet on the ground and took out a small handkerchief and wrapped the amulet in it.

“What are you doing?” Ciri asked.

“This was Vesemir’s, part of the process of exchange was cut off when you grabbed his amulet from the fire before his body burned. This is the last piece I have of him, a used up old hanky I have been carrying around for years.” Geralt said, standing and aiming his fingers at it. “In order for this to work it has to pass to me in actuality. I need to burn that last piece, and then I can open up the amulet in full.”

Ciri looked at him, startled, as he opened up his fingers and a white hot blast of Igni raced out.

“Here is another lesson for you, witcheress.” Geralt said as he watched the amulet pulse in the fire. “When the leader of a school dies they are burned. Whoever can reach into the fire and grab the amulet without it burning them takes over where he left off. You obviously could, but the ceremony wasn’t complete so it didn’t open to you.”

Geralt stopped the Igni and reached down to grab the molten metal. When his hand closed around it Ciri gasped. Geralt had to steady himself as he grabbed the amulet and magic raced through him. There was a sudden pull and a gust of wind that tousled Geralt’s hair and caused the birds around Corvo Bianco to take flight. When it settled Geralt put the still hot amulet around his neck. He nodded as he felt the familiar weight rest against his neck.

“What was that?” Ciri asked, standing and reaching for the amulet on Geralt’s chest. She instantly flinched away as it burned her.

“That, is the passing of the Master’s Amulet.” Geralt said, smiling. “It can only pass between a master witcher and a master witcher. While you wore it its powers were curbed. It functioned to detect monsters, and still acted as the center point to contact the schools, but no more. Eskel inadvertently handed over the reins of the Wolf School to me when he made a poor decision. The others confirmed it, and we sealed it.”

Ciri looked at Geralt and tilted her head, studying him.

“Thank you, Ciri.” Geralt nodded. “You will get this back, I promise.”

Ciri nodded and hugged Geralt as Barnabas-Basil came up to the greenhouse.

“Now, you need to go to Beauclair.” Geralt’s eyes hardened, looking at the witcheress who scoffed with indignation.

“Why do I need to go there!?” Ciri whined, her brows furrowing. “I just got back.”

“No rest for the weary.” Geralt grinned. “There is a whole host of necrophages and the boys are taking them out. I figured you could lend ‘em a hand; show them you newfound skills? It would cut their work in half at least.”

Ciri sighed.

“Fine, I’ll go get my things.” She said with a half smile. “They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Geralt stood and watched her go back to the house as Barnabas-Basil approached.

The next several hours were spent dealing with a very stuffy actuary, and leading both the actuary and chaperon capped and sunglass wearing Emhyr around the grounds, showing them the various things that existed on them. Emhyr was more than amused to watch Geralt awkwardly navigate the questions. More than once Emhyr pointed out flaws in the actuary’s work. At the end of the tour when everything was said and done and they had just sat down to get to brass tax and calculate how much Geralt would owe in tax insurance for the year when Emhyr nudged Geralt and pointed to his ring.

Needless to say the whole tour wound up being pointless, as the second he showed the signet ring to the poor befuddled man, he had informed him that the royal house would pick up his taxes and estate insurances while he held his title, and that was that.

When Geralt asked Emhyr why he hadn’t said anything earlier, Emhyr just chuckled, grabbed a book from the shelves, and meandered out the door. _Bastard_.

Geralt was left fuming by himself for a few moments before an urgent whistle went through the vineyard. Someone needed help. Geralt sighed, rubbed his face, and headed out to the fields where his men were.

The rest of the morning was spent helping haul grapes up to the maceration kegs to get them ready for pigéage, which still wouldn’t start for a few days yet. When the mid-afternoon heat became sweltering Geralt started getting more and more annoyed at everything for no reason at all. He cursed at himself, trying to figure out the source of his foul mood, when Regis broke through his thoughts.

_Full moon Geralt,_ Regis said, irritation at something happening in the alchemy lab seeping through his end of the bond _. And you are hungry, let’s set up for a late lunch, I will meet you up at the house in short order._

Geralt sighed and told Markus he was out for the rest of the afternoon and decided that he was going to just take the rest of it off. His foul mood was affecting his working habits. He found himself trudging up the hill and passing through the gardens. Emhyr had found his chaise lounge and had one of the servants waiting on him as he read the book he had picked up.

“I could smell you coming from the bottom of the hill, Geralt.” Emhyr said, his nose still buried the book. “You need to bathe.”

“I have been working all afternoon.” Geralt snorted, purposefully walking over to the man and placing himself upwind. He was rewarded when Emhyr winced.

“I find your library fascinating,” Emhyr looked up to Geralt, his brows furrowed. “This book in particular.”

Geralt looked at the title and balked.

“Why on earth did you choose that one?” Geralt looked down at Emhyr, who licked his finger and flipped the page.

“Honestly I thought it was a joke.” Emhyr sat up, his eyes darting over the page. “But this… this is…”

“It’s the real deal.” Geralt nodded, purposefully flopping down next to the Emperor.

“I probably wouldn’t have paid attention to it, but there is a whole chapter here on setting up villages for the best breeding potential.” Emhyr murmured, flipping backwards in the book to a page with an illustration of an ideal human starting village. “I would have just ignored it, but…”

“It has potential?” Geralt asked, looking over the man’s shoulder.

“No, it’s in use currently, all around my realm.” Emhyr said, wrinkling his nose again at the proximity of Geralt. “We have touted in Nilfgaard that there were no such things as vampires, they were made up. But I find myself wondering, part of the infrastructure we have set up, have been setting up since before my grandfather’s time, has been to keep the populace happy, fed, and entertained.”

“That’s just common sense.” Geralt shrugged.

“It is, however, the location of some of the villages, towns, and now cities that have been set up, specifically set up on fertile land that was once held by the elves.” Emhyr pointed to the village in the book. “This village, the one they are using as the study, is a town called Sarda. In this book it’s a simple village, but it has thrived. It lays between the Velda and Sytel rivers, it has the Tir Tochair Mountains to the east, and the Desert of Korath past that point. The desert and the mountains and the proximity thereof, creates a perfect area of fertile soil where there is just enough rain to not drown the place. It’s one of our bread baskets where a lot of our wheat, rye, and barley is gown. Before humans settled there, it was the home of some of the Aen Seidhe elves. This is probably around a thousand years or so, they were driven out. The imperial records state that the elves vanished. However this…”

Geralt felt his heart constrict.

“The elves were driven from here around five hundred or so years ago.” Geralt frowned. “Official records for that exodus was human encroachment.”

“What if it’s not, though?” Emhyr asked, looking at Geralt, his eyes serious. He flipped to another chapter entitled Elder Races.

“Look here.” He said, leaning the book between Geralt and himself. “It says here that elves by far have the best tasting blood. It goes on to say that elves can’t be restrained or restricted or manipulated like humans can. They won’t breed in captivity, and the females will not ovulate if under duress. There is a whole fifty pages or so going over the attempted breeding of elves and a very well thought researched. You know what the conclusion was?”

Geralt shook his head.

“Extermination.” Emhyr said, pointing a paragraph about culling. “By means of interbreeding with humans to attempt to get a crossbreed with the best of both bloods, or by elimination by force. It goes on to say that humans are naturally distrustful of that which they do not understand, and that can be used to allow the humans to systematically destroy, and breed with the female elves. It also goes on to say that elves pose a direct threat to vampires, and only by capping off…”

“The founts.” Geralt found himself standing and a rippling wave of concern came through from Regis. Emhyr looked at Geralt and narrowed his eyes.

“What do you know of the founts?” Emhyr asked, his eyes narrowing as he closed the book.

“More than you probably know.” Geralt grumbled as he began to pace. “We have one at Kaer Morhen. And I know of the one under Beauclair.”

Emhyr’s eyebrows shot up.

“How many are there, and what do they do for the elves?” Geralt asked as Regis came jogging into the garden. Emhyr’s eyes narrowed as the vampire approached.

“Is this a wise topic to be discussing now?” Emhyr asked, looking pointedly at Regis.

“What I know, he knows.” Geralt said as Regis looked between Geralt and Emhyr.

“What are we discussing?” Regis asked, clearing his throat.

“The founts.” Geralt answered, looking at the vampire. Regis nodded.

“The one under Beauclair or the one at Kaer Morhen?” Regis asked, taking a seat on the empty chair in front of Emhyr as Geralt paced. Emhyr scoffed.

“Both.” Geralt said, taking a seat beside the Emperor once more, his leg bouncing.

“There are many.” Emhyr said. “The ones in Nilfgaard were capped long ago minus one in the City of Golden Towers, though under what circumstances I am now beginning to wonder.”

“Where are the active ones?” Geralt asked as Regis crossed his legs and dusted off his gambeson.

“The one at Kaer Morhen, there is one in Dol Blathanna, one in Brokilon, Blaviken, Crow’s Perch, Ellander, Aed Gynval and Rivia. Those are the ones I know off the top of my head. All in the north, where the elves have slowly migrated.”

“What purpose do they serve if you don’t mind me asking?” Regis asked, his voice calling on that unassuming air.

Emhyr’s lips narrowed to a line. Geralt felt the air change as Regis put up a bubble. Emhyr must have sensed it too because he sat bolt upright and frowned hard at Regis. Regis put his hands out in a placating gesture.

“If anyone is eavesdropping they cannot hear us now.” Regis said. “I cast a spell to gain us privacy from our mutual enemies.”

“According to the petitioners in Nilfgaard they are the source of the elves’ life force.” Emhyr said slowly. “My grandfather had the one in the capital uncapped as one of the first gestures he made to the elves living within the walls. The well is located in the temple of Aed Faeinn which is located on the border between the palace grounds and the elven quarter. Have you ever wondered why there is such a thriving population of elves in Nilfgaard? Even beyond those that have been pushed northwards? Why they stay with us, and fight with us?”

“It’s because you have opened a path to allow them to live.” Geralt replied, his eyes wide the whole religion of the Eternal Sun coming into crystal view. “That’s also why any time an initiate possesses any inclination of magic they are immediately sent away to Loc Grim.”

Emhyr nodded grimly.

“Were an inexperienced priest with magical abilities to cast in that place without experience, he would run the risk of blowing it up.” Emhyr said. “The only magic users allowed are the elves themselves, who know how to work with their own magic.”

Regis’ eyes widened in realization.

“That was one of the reasons that Vilgefortz wanted the capital!” Regis exclaimed, looking at Geralt and Emhyr in turn. “That is why the elves were here! They were purifying the area! Removing the taint of the vampire home world from around the well!”

“How the hell do you know that?!” Emhyr snarled, launching to standing. Geralt had never seen him so angry and he instantly was up on his feet as well.

“He knows because we took the underground path to get back to Beauclair from Belhaven.” Geralt said, stepping between Emhyr and Regis, his eyes stern. “Despite what you may or may not think of Regis, I know the team of elves you sent to purify the place. I fought with them, they were Iorveth’s…”

Geralt felt himself suddenly choke.

“No, no more.” Geralt said, his eyes widening as he looked from Regis to Emhyr. “Regis, we need to keep this under our hats. No more discussion.”

Regis moved to protest, but Geralt whipped a warning through the bond.

“Please forgive us.” Geralt said, looking at Emhyr, his fingers flexing.

Emhyr balked and Regis looked up to Geralt, helplessly confused.

“Regis your barrier only prevents your kin from spying, not mine.” Geralt said. “And the birds have ears, this is beyond us, and we need to allow Emhyr to move his own chess pieces.”

Emhyr looked between the two of them, and Geralt felt a cold sweat move down his back.

The Emperor looked to Geralt, narrowing his whiskey colored eyes. “You know.” It was a statement. Simple and pure, and without malice. Emhyr sighed and rubbed at his temples.

“The placement of Vernon Roche as King of Temeria and Redania was no coincidence.” Geralt said, looking pointedly to Emhyr who paled. “As was your open support of the elves  when Roche made his declaration of forgiveness.”

“It was my idea.” Emhyr spat. “Those idiots on my council are beholden by crowns, I am not.”

“Then Morvran…” Geralt looked at the Emperor who paled further. Regis finally caught the thread and his eyes widened.

“This discussion is over.” Emhyr barked, his voice shaking. “You will hold your tongue any further Geralt de Corvo Bianco!”

Regis glanced between the two of them then sighed and stood up.

“Let’s take this down a different path shall we?” Regis looked around and sniffed the air. “Duny, I will offer you what Geralt offered Yennefer. We are at your disposal, should you need anything from us, you have but to ask.”

Emhyr sneered and spun around, his hands clasping behind his back.

“You are my subjects, you live on my lands, I am your ruler!” Emhyr spat.

Geralt felt his ire rising. He looked at the Emperor’s back, his tense posture, the smell of fear wafting off of him in waves. His quickened breath and fiercely beating heart. He was afraid, deathly afraid. For a moment Geralt saw the boy he once was, standing against a tempest. All the nights’ discussion filtered through his mind, Geralt felt the anger shift from Emhyr himself to the world the Emperor lived in. He made his choice, and looked to Regis, who nodded sternly.

“Duny…” Geralt started, placing his hand on the Emperor’s shoulder. The other man spun around, looking almost like a trapped animal.

“You will not touch me!” Emhyr hissed, a shake visible as his hands worked at the air.

Geralt didn’t let it deter him. He slowly raised his hand again and placed it on the Emperor’s shoulder once more. He felt Emhyr tense but he held his ground and didn’t attempt to move his hand.

“A lot has happened in these past years, and last night, what was said has made me realize I have made a grave error in judging you.” Geralt spoke as the Emperor’s eyes got wide. “We are your friends, Emhyr. Or at least I would like to make the attempt at being friends.”

Emhyr blinked and his mouth worked to form words.

“You know what friends do?” Geralt was looking at the Emperor who looked more vulnerable than Geralt had ever seen the man look. “We look out for one another, we defend one another, and we stand with one another regardless of the foes we face. I am not your subject, I am your friend, and come hell or high water I will defend you and your interests, not because I am obligated to by your station, not because I have something to gain from you, but because I am starting to like you as a person. A person Emhyr. Emhyr the man, whose fears, hopes, and dreams I can stand behind. Emhyr, the father of my daughter, the lover of my friend.”

Emhyr looked at him, a cascade of emotions running through his face as Geralt looked at him steadily. The shaking became worse. Geralt set his mouth in a firm line and reached forward, bringing Emhyr into an embrace. The man stiffened once again as Geralt inhaled his scent. Sandalwood, musk, deep spices, fear, stress, and an untold amount of other little things.

“We are here for you.” Geralt said against the man’s shoulder as he tightened his grip. Geralt could feel his hesitation before the Emperor tentatively raised his arms up and returned the embrace. “You do not stand alone in this. Not now.”

Geralt held the embrace until the shaking began to stop.

“I… am at a loss for words.” Emhyr’s voice was muffled against Geralt’s shoulder as his head was bowed.

“There need not be words.” Regis spoke, his voice soft as he approached them and placed his hand on Emyhr’s shoulder. “That’s the thing about friendship: it is given freely, without the need for repercussions or reparations. You do not owe us anything, and we do not expect anything from you, nor would we. There is an author named Simon Sinek * whose words I think apply to this situation. ‘The strong bond of friendship is not always a balanced equation; friendship is not always about giving and taking in equal shares. Instead, friendship is grounded in a feeling that you know exactly who will be there for you when you need something, no matter what or when.’ We give this to you, and I apologize for judging you unfairly as well.”

Geralt released the Emperor and left his hand on the man’s shoulder. Emhyr looked from Geralt to Regis, a small sad smile crossing his face.

“The only friend I had for the longest time was Mererid.” He said. “Forgive me if I do not entirely know what to do, or how to act. This… is an entirely new thing for me, as I have never had someone besides him and Yennefer who claimed to be my friend without a knife at my back.”

Geralt smiled, and Regis smiled in turn.

“Well, better late than never?” Geralt chuckled.

“I do hope I am not interrupting anything, but I have lunch set out for you.” Barnabas-Basil approached the group and Geralt felt his stomach twist. Emhyr turned and his stomach growled loudly and he looked down and laughed.

“Good timing, master Foulty.” Regis said, pulling his hand away and adjusting his satchel. “I do believe all three of us could eat the equivalent of Vlad at the moment.”

“Ah!” Barnabas-Basil grinned. “Well then, if you would please follow me. I also have good news on the bath house front. They just installed the last of the plumbing. They are in the process of cleaning now, the only things that we will need past this point are those runes you were going to get from mistress Yennefer.”

“I forgot to ask her about that.” Geralt said sheepishly as he followed behind Barnabas-Basil to the tent that had been set up beside the house.

“Well, you may want to speak with her soon, especially if you would like to use the bath any time soon.” Barnabas-Basil said, approaching the head of the table and pulling out a chair. “Duny?”

The Emperor approached the chair and sat. Geralt and Regis did the same as lunch was served.

The conversation was light and easy as they ate. Geralt regaled them with the tale of Dandelion sleeping with Dudu, and the resulting chaos, and by the end of it they had Emhyr laughing. That led into another story, this one told by Emhyr of Yennefer stumbling into a situation where she attempted to seduce Mererid in the guise of Emhyr. By the end of the story all three of them were laughing so hard that tears were rolling down their faces. Even Barnabas-Basil was chuckling.

They ate and bantered back and forth till the food was taken away, and the wine was flowing. Geralt felt at peace, and Regis mirrored him as they spoke easily.

The banter was interrupted when a porthole ripped open in front of the house. Instantly Geralt was up and had his sword drawn and Regis had turned into his bestial form and was beside Geralt, in front of Emhyr who had stood up and looked to the porthole with uncertain eyes.

“I really wish these stupid things didn’t affect me as much as they do.” Geralt’s eyes widened as a small form dressed in black stepped through, holding her head.

“Ah Geralt, Regis!” Yennefer exclaimed, her eyes picking them up immediately. “Put away your sword you oaf, and Regis – _claws_.”

Both of them immediately stood at ease.

“Yennefer, I wasn’t expecting you.” Geralt was hesitating, and looking over his shoulder at Emhyr who still wore the chaperon and dark glasses.

“You should always expect me.” Yennefer said haughtily, crossing her arms. “Entertaining a guest I see, well good, I could use some wine, and I would like to discuss something with Regis specifical…”

Geralt stumbled as Emhyr pushed past him and approached Yennefer.

“My aren’t we forward, and what is the meaning of…” Emhyr removed the chaperon and tossed it to the ground. Yennefer’s eyes narrowed. When he removed the glasses her eyes got wide.

“Dhu minne…” Emhyr breathed.

Yennefer let out a startled choke and Emhyr dove in embracing her and kissing her. Yennefer immediately pulled herself to him her hands gripping the Emperor’s hair. She pulled away and peppered kisses all over his face before latching onto him and burying her head in his shoulder. Emhyr stoked her hair as she let out a choked sob.

Geralt felt himself grinning as Regis moved beside him and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“You…” She pulled herself away suddenly and gripped his face comically, hard tears running down her cheeks. The Emperor made a strangled sound as she looked at him and scowled.

“How long has he been here Geralt?” Yennefer asked, twisting Emhyr’s face to look at the stitches and hissing at what she saw.

“I can explain…” Emhyr pushed out through pursed lips.

“He has only been here since last night, Yennefer.” Geralt said, chuckling.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?!” Yennefer hissed, wiping at her face to rid herself of the tears.

“Yenne…” Emhyr started, reaching out for her.

“I would slap you, but it would rip your stiches.” Yennefer snarled. “Explain yourself, _now_.”

“It’s fun to watch this and not be on the receiving end.” Geralt quipped, earning a chuckle from Regis, and a glare from Yennefer.

“I only arrived last night, Ciri came and got me and…”

“Ciri is here too?!” Yennefer pushed Emhyr in the chest and stalked over to Geralt.

“Spoke too soon, Geralt.” Regis was pulling away and getting out of striking distance.

Yennefer raised her hand and Geralt grinned, letting his fangs show. She hesitated.

“I should teleport the whole lot of you all into the damned lake, you fools.” Yennefer growled, stomping her foot. She instead went over to the table and placed her hands down on it. Emhyr padded over and pulled out a chair, which she threw herself into. Without any hesitation Emhyr pushed her flush with the table and Regis poured her a glass of wine.

Yennefer took a sip of the wine and pursed her lips as they sat.

“Now, start from the beginning.” Yennefer said as Emhyr placed himself beside her and put a hand on her thigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STARTING MORE PLOT HERE WE GO
> 
> Next chapter is the hunt... which...... is... violent... and awesome. so be forewarned!!!


	40. The hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to a bandit problem at Tesham Mutna, Geralt is given the go-ahead to test his new mutations.
> 
> “Is it wrong that I want this?” Geralt asked, feeling suddenly hopelessly lost. “Is it wrong that I want us, want this, and want to change? I want to do this! We were always told to take the path of neutrality, we were taught to hide and suppress emotions. Even our bodies were modified to make the chemical impact of emotions dull. We see the world so differently, but…”
> 
> Regis embraced Geralt, nipping along his neck and eliciting a groan.
> 
> “So long as you are not going against what you know is wrong and right, then you have a path forward Geralt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***********
> 
> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!  
>  ****
> 
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff
> 
>  
> 
> **************  
> 
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**
> 
> OH MAN, THIS CHAPTER... 
> 
> Lots of Warnings
> 
> Mention's of Regis' bulimia  
> Very violent Geralt  
> Non-con (Extreme)  
> Mind control (Also Extreme)  
> Blood drunkenness  
> Mind rape  
> forced self pleasure  
> Decapitation  
> blood play  
> relationship negotiation  
> Threesome MxMxF (Geralt/ Regis/ Bruxa)  
> Snowballing (cum kiss)  
> many emotions
> 
> ****************

By the time Geralt, Regis and Emhyr had explained what had happened, the sun was beginning to pull itself towards the horizon and Geralt felt himself and Regis getting more and more antsy. Yennefer had calmed considerably but the air had changed, and her need of Emhyr, and Emhyr’s need of her was suffocating Geralt and Regis.

In the end Geralt offered his house to them, with the caveat that they were to avoid Geralt and Regis’ bedroom, but the rest of the house was theirs to use as they saw fit. When Yennefer asked Geralt where Regis and he were going at night, Geralt explained the bandit situation at Tesham Mutna. Yennefer narrowed her eyes and looked to the horizon where the moon would be rising soon.

“Full moon tonight.” She said, pursing her lips, her cheeks rosy with wine.

“So it is.” Geralt said, finally standing and working out the stiffness in his legs.

“Don’t get yourselves into too much trouble.” Yennefer said, regarding Geralt. “I have a task for Regis, but it can wait till the morning.”

The sun had begun to set and Geralt could feel the pressure behind his teeth increasing. Regis also stood and looked over to the eastern side of the Amell’s. When the moon’s orange edge peaked over the mountains Geralt felt a pulse and a pull like nothing he had ever felt before. He felt his fangs elongating of their own accord despite the ring. He looked over to Regis whose eyes glinted in the light of the setting sun.

“We must go now, Lady Yennefer, Duny.” Regis looked at Geralt, and Geralt’s nose flared. “Come, Geralt. We shall fly, it will be faster.”

“Wait, fly?” Yennefer pushed herself away from the table and Emhyr stood as well, looking at the two of them.

“Regis?” Geralt grinned, adrenalin racing through him as he licked his lips.

Regis went to the spot in front of the house and changed fluidly. Yennefer let out an audible gasp as Regis stood before them in his giant bat form. Geralt was instantly over by Regis’ side, running his hands through the thick soft fur around his neck.

“I assure you, Lady Yennefer, we will be safe, and there will be no bandits come morning.” Regis purred, his voice a full octave lower in that form. Barnabas-Basil approached, completely nonplussed.

“Heading out for the night, master Geralt, master Regis?” He said, nodding at the two. The sight caused Yennefer to scoff.

“Yes, we will not be back till the morning.” Geralt nodded, regarding his majordomo. “I have given Lady Yennefer and Duny free run of the house. They have much they need to catch up on. Please have Marlene prepare them a meal, then leave the house to them. I will check up on you from time to time to make sure things are running smoothly.”

Emhyr approached Regis, eyeing him. Regis sniffed the air, his ears twitching every which way as the Emperor stood in front of the giant bat.

“I must know more about this form.” Emhyr said, his eyes wide and curious. Yennefer snorted and grabbed his hand, leading him over towards the house.

“There will be time for that.” Yennefer said, the scent of her arousal thickening, causing both Geralt and Regis to draw in the air almost at the same time. She snorted.

“You two are incorrigible.” She said, turning at the door as Geralt clamored up onto Regis’ back avoiding his wing membrane.

“Come on Regis, let’s go.” Geralt said, an edge to his voice he was trying to suppress. Everyone nearby smelled amazing, and his mouth had started to water.

“Yes, lets.” Regis growled and without preamble galloped and jumped into the air. Geralt gripped onto him tightly, lowering himself into the thick fur and inhaling. Regis chuckled as he rounded the vineyard and made a swoop past Yennefer, Emhyr and Barnabas-Basil. He let off a screech and then took off like a bolt of lightning into the sky and away from the vineyard.

The second they were out of eyesight Geralt shuddered against Regis’ back.

“Regis…” Geralt said against the wind as they flew due south, approaching Beauclair. A hollow knot settled itself into his stomach and he started stiffening against Regis’ back as Regis’ wings pumped against the air.

“Already losing yourself, and the night has yet to begin.” Regis said, his own arousal and hunting instinct coming through the bond with clarity. “Such a fledgling.”

Geralt buried his face into Regis’ ruff, inhaling his smell, which was thick and heady. He shuddered as the movement of Regis’ back muscles started driving him into a frenzy.

“Look up, Geralt.” Regis said, shifting his path slightly. Geralt chanced a look upwards and gasped. There were others in the air. From this vantage he could see them clearly. From the ground they would just look like normal bats, but from up here he could see it. Other vampires had taken to the air, their chirps and calls reaching Geralt’s ears as excitement raced through the air.

“Most will stay close to their homes or head north.” Regis said as they swooped low, the sky turning a fiery red and the moon finding itself crawling over the mountains. “None shall come here, they are afraid.”

“Are you?” Geralt asked as they passed over Beauclair.

“Would there be a legitimate reason to be afraid I likely would be.” Regis said, annoyance at his kin racing through the bond. “The whole lot of them are superstitious.”

Geralt laughed and felt some of the tension easing.

“Ground rules.” Regis said. “I will not be partaking unless it is from you this night.”

“Why?” Geralt asked, sitting up and letting the wind catch him.

“I very well could lose myself to bloodlust.” Regis said. “And it’s you who we shall drive into a frenzy, not me. Second rule, you will do as I say until I release you to hunt on your own. Third rule, you will not leave the Tesham Mutna area, if you do I will retrieve you and will drain you so thoroughly it will take you a week to recover, you will not test me in this.”

“Ok…” Geralt said as another wave of power passed over him.

“When we land, you will give me the ring, and I will keep it safe on my person.” Regis said. Geralt could feel the giddiness and anticipation racing through the bond. “You will also leave your swords behind. We will not be using them. Now silence, and prepare yourself.”

Geralt didn’t know what to think or feel as the pulse of the moon took him over. He had never felt anything like this in all of his days of existing. It was almost like the moment before he went out on a contract to kill, but deeper, more primal. He felt power pulsing through him, and the idea that he was going to get fresh blood and that he could glut himself tore his mind in two as he attempted to come to terms with what they were getting ready to do. He had felt something similar in the Dankwood wilds. But this, this was an entirely different beast. He could feel his amulet letting off a small vibration, one that was likely being caused by him at the moment as his mutations tried to correct and control the sensations rushing through him.

Regis’ thoughts by comparison were strong and steady. This was something he had gone through hundreds of times. He knew what to expect. What he was going to feel, how he was going to react. Geralt tried to use that to ground himself, but no matter what, the giddiness would come back. His teeth were aching and it felt like his body was too small for him.

Before he knew it they were circling over the ruins and the red light of the sky had faded to a dull purple.

“Look down, tell me what you see.” Regis said. Geralt leaned himself over the edge and peered over Regis’ wing.

“A camp, a large one.” Geralt said, adjusting his eyes. “Several fires, there is a lookout in the tower, looking down of course. Most of their camp is on the clear of the circles of the battlements. I count about forty or so men in total around the ruins themselves. In the woods surrounding the ruins I see several more. Maybe five in total, give or take. Scouts and lookouts. They have prisoners, I see cages, I also see a pile of corpses off the battlements to the west.”

“Prisoners complicate matters.” Regis said. “But not that much.”

“I can Axii them.” Geralt said.

“I can also glamor them.” Regis said, cocking his head and looking down. “I see one off on his own, we shall start there. Our goal is to instill fear in them. Once they are afraid they shall be easy to pick off one by one.”

Regis swung around and began his approach. They landed well out of eyesight, and far enough away that they wouldn’t be detected right away. When they landed Geralt slid off Regis’ back and he stood shuddering. Regis nuzzled him once he transformed back to his human guise, but it wasn’t a complete transformation. Regis’ eyes had gone near black, the red of his irises pulsing with an inner light Geralt had never seen before.

“The first is north of us.” Regis huffed, scenting the air. “Take off your ring, Geralt.”

Geralt hesitated for a moment before sliding the ring off. He had thought the pulses he was feeling before were powerful. When he removed the ring the change was instant. He bent over, falling to his knees as his heart rate picked up and his breath began to come in ragged, pained gasps. Venom was dripping from his fangs and his nose flared. He could hear them plain as day. Their heartbeats echoed through the woods like a drum. He had experienced something similar at the palace, but it was amplified a hundred fold now.

Regis bent down and nipped at Geralt’s neck and Geralt hissed, a pained growl releasing from his throat. He turned to Regis and bared his fangs; Regis bared his in return.

“Let your instincts take over.” Regis growled, his voice hissing in a layered fashion Geralt had never been able to appreciate, until now.

Geralt gave in and found himself face to face with Regis snapping at him, and then when Regis growled low he found himself marking him. He gripped onto Regis like a drowning man as he covered the vampire in his scent, which was thickening. Regis did the same, rubbing his cheek on Geralt’s and nipping at him. Geralt pushed at Regis, snapping at him, and Regis snapped right back, his claws elongating and Geralt’s following suit. Geralt looked at Regis’ teeth and felt his own ache. He sliced at Regis with them. Regis grinned as Geralt hissed.

“I feel so strange.” Geralt growled through his teeth as he nipped at Regis, who pressed against him.

“Bonding before the hunt.” Regis explained sliding around Geralt’s back and pressing himself flush against the witcher. He buried his face in Geralt’s neck and bit him. Geralt craned his neck upwards to allow access and to show submission.

“Good… good.” Regis licked at Geralt’s neck then bit down again, causing Geralt to keen.

“It’s like, I want to fight you.” Geralt hissed out as Regis held him firmly with his teeth.

“That’s also good.” Regis released him and nuzzled his hair. “Dominance must be established before the hunt, otherwise it could fall apart.”

Geralt felt himself spinning around and attacking Regis. An inhuman roar left his lips. It felt good, felt right, and Regis called back. Geralt could read it. It said ‘try me’. They tussled, snapping at one another as they wrestled, dancing out of the way of each others’ claws and teeth. Geralt thought he had the upper hand till Regis turned to mist and he suddenly found himself pinned with Regis’ teeth around his throat. Regis growled low and Geralt felt himself curling his fingers, pointing his claws away from Regis. He keened as the grip around his neck tightened and suddenly his whole body went limp. Regis released him.

“See, was that so hard?” Regis asked, licking at the area where he’d bruised Geralt’s neck. Geralt nuzzled into him, a soft chittering sound uttering from his throat. Regis looked down with wide eyes.

“Well, that was unexpected.” Regis blinked, answering back with his own chitter and a groan.

“My throat feels odd.” Geralt grumbled “And I can understand whatever that sound is I made. Means you will lead and I will follow?”

“Yes, ingrained.” Regis confirmed, growling low and chittering again.

“That means you will hunt with me, protect me?” Geralt asked, his eyes widening. “Why do I know this?”

“We are born with this language, Geralt.” Regis anwsered lifting himself off of Geralt. “The fact that you are able to access it is both extraordinary and concerning, but let’s not let it interrupt our night, we have a hunt.”

Geralt grabbed the offered hand and pulled himself upright. He looked at Regis as the vampire’s claws retracted and his face returned to nearly normal. Geralt retracted his as well and was surprised as his body obeyed despite the energy running through it.

“Remove your swords, and your shirt. It is likely to get messy.” Regis was grinning with anticipation. Geralt didn’t need to be told twice, and when he felt the moonlight hit his skin he groaned.

“If I didn’t know any better I would say you are more excited than me.” Geralt cast a sidelong look over to the vampire.

“I still fear falling into addiction Geralt, it travels with me to my core, and is with me at every thought.” Regis frowned as he sniffed the air. “I have a task that shall keep me on target, however, and I know I can partake from you without falling to the siren’s call. The fact that you are willing to source yourself to me is extraordinary, and something I am more than willing to partake in. With time I should be able to go back to being able to partake in others without the guilt, without the need to purge, without the driving want to binge.”

“Isn’t that essentially what you are telling me to do tonight?” Geralt asked, raising a brow. “You want me to glut myself.”

“Yes, and since you insist on speaking about it we shall.” Regis growled, moving closer. “The days have gone on Geralt, and each day brings with it a subtle change in you. Something that most would not catch, but I can. We had our talk about you not being a vampire, and as you insisted at the time, you are not, however…”

Geralt looked at Regis for a moment, a soft feeling of trepidation filling him. He worried at his lip, and then looked to Regis. Regis’ expression was imploring, and Geralt sighed.

“Can I confess something?” Geralt asked softly, looking to the trees. He had kept these thoughts to himself, sealed away until Regis had brought it up.

“You may always speak frankly with me, Geralt.” Regis smiled, nuzzling against his shoulder, marking him once again. Geralt stirred a bit and that same chittering growl started building in his throat.

“I… I think I want to.” Geralt nearly choked on the words as he looked at the moon. His eyes dilated. His heart rate increased and he began to shake.

“You want to… what?” Regis nudged, looking at him; his own eyes reflecting the moonlight, one of the few reminders that he wasn’t close to being human.

“I want to be one, a vampire.” Geralt’s rough voice was barely a whisper as he looked to his clawed hands. “It’s been little things. Most which have stacked over the years, I have been hiding a piece of myself away from those that know me for so long, it’s just become a part of me. I, feel like, I need to embrace this. I want to say you don’t understand the thrill I have taken over the years hunting quarry as a witcher, but I know that isn’t true. The hunt, the path. Each monster brought me close to the something I was, to something beyond. The others, every last one of them looked at it like it was a burden, but never me. I have gotten tired sure, deviated from the path to solve problems, but the smell of blood, the smell of a kill….”

“I understand you completely and utterly.” Regis was smiling, his fangs catching the moonlight. “As vampires we have grown complacent. My mother used to tell me stories about our home world and the creatures we would hunt there, where we were not immortal. She would tell me of the thrill, and I would seek it. I sought it in monsters, but was distracted from my path when I discovered the narcotic effects of blood, and how it affected me physically, as well as mentally. I am shy by nature, even more so than most of my kind. The blood, the hunt, the feeling of it. It gave me courage, Geralt. Courage to be the person I thought I wanted to be. You can’t imagine the horrid disappointment that runs through all of our spices as we find out that one of the single most defenseless creatures in the whole of creation is the holder of that which gives us life. You though, you hunt, truly. You fight that which would kill you easily, and you have reveled in it.”

“The fact that you have confessed this to me, just goes to show me how far we have fallen.” Regis shook his head, the loose strands of his wild hair framing his face. “You are untainted by our stories, other than the fevered imaginings of humans and witchers who have fought for centuries to eliminate my kind. And yet you have done what we do not. Driven, I am sure, initially by your witcher training and mutations, but at some point it changed, didn’t it? You probably can’t pinpoint when, but it changed. It stopped being a job, and started being a need, a compulsion. One, luckily, that rode side by side with you in the saddle, but one had you been in any other position, or any less extraordinary circumstances, people would have taken notice of.”

Geralt felt himself still at the words. He had never thought of it that way. It was something for him, which just existed. The extraordinary circumstances around everything that had happened to him had masked his symptoms both from himself, and from others. He trembled.

“Is it wrong that I want this?” Geralt asked, feeling suddenly hopelessly lost. “Is it wrong that I want us, want this, and want to change? I want to do this! We were always told to take the path of neutrality, we were taught to hide and suppress emotions. Even our bodies were modified to make the chemical impact of emotions dull. We see the world so differently, but…”

Regis embraced Geralt, nipping along his neck and eliciting a groan.

“So long as you are not going against what you know is wrong and right, then you have a path forward Geralt.” Regis nuzzled into his hair. “You wouldn’t kill a child, or a family. You have shown a great deal of moral constraint that is lacking in human kind as a whole. Even those you slaughtered, in Kaer Morhen, Blaviken, Rivia, you did so with reason, and with an intent that was pure, even though those around you didn’t see it or understood it. You spare monsters Geralt. How many humans can say they have gone out of their way to even attempt to understand the culture of trolls, succubi, and yes, vampires. Very few. Now, tonight, ease your mind. You would be coming here and dispatch them regardless, would you not?”

Geralt nodded, then stilled.

“You want me to hunt, you want to put me into a bloodlust.” Geralt turned, pulling away from Regis so he could look him in the eyes once more. “How do I even justify that? How do we justify that?”

Regis sent a warm wave of comfort over the bond.

“We need to do this Geralt,” Regis said, grabbing his shoulders. “We cannot run the risk of you hitting that point in battle and losing yourself without knowledge that it is coming on and how to channel it. You can look at it as a berserker rage if you must, not blood lust. As a witcher it is your job to know how to fight and handle yourself. This is a new aspect of you. If you want to hold off we can, and we will. I will not force you to do anything, and you shouldn’t force yourself either…”

Geralt looked to Regis his eyes pleading.

“I want this so badly!” Geralt practically shouted. “I feel split in two! My head, it’s pounding. I can hear them, Regis. I can hear their hearts beating, I can smell the fear in the prisoners they hold hostage. I want… I want to rip them apart; I want to tear them to pieces… I want to revel in their blood and glut myself, but this other part of me is screaming, telling me it’s wrong, it’s what monsters do. I feel overwhelmed…”

Geralt saw his own claws lengthening and he snapped at the air, releasing a low keening call. Regis answered by growling low and drawing himself to Geralt once again.

“This is what I felt when I took the sangurium.” Regis’ voice was full of empathy as he grabbed Geralt’s cheeks and softly nudged their heads together. “This is what I was feeling as you lead me to Tesham Mutna the first time. I can feel your emotions through the bond. You are already fighting yourself like I was. Give in Geralt, you can, and it’s ok. I will be here to bring you back like you were for me. If necessary I will toss you into the cage, this is why this place is ideal. Do you understand? You can let go!”

“If I strike at the prisoners you will stop me?” Geralt’s breathing was harsh, a thin sheen of sweat stealing over his body as his muscles began to vibrate and twitch.

“You wouldn’t, but to ease your mind I will, should it come to that.” Regis agreed.

Geralt nodded shakily and pulled away.

“Scent the air Geralt, where is our first?” Regis said, looking to the woods.

Geralt felt the energy pulling around him as his mouth began to water and his lips pulled back as he scented the air. He caught the man’s scent. He was drunk, listing and tired. He pinpointed where the smell was coming from and focused his witcher mutations. The smell was glorious, and Geralt felt himself pulled forwards, stalking through the trees. He felt Regis behind him as his feet found sure ground, silently. The closer he got the more the man’s heart sounded like a drumbeat. When he caught sight of him he felt his nostrils flaring once again.

“There are others.” Geralt whispered through his breath as Regis fell into place behind him. “I can hear them in the trees. They have bows and are using this one as bait. They are sober, while this one is drunk.”

Geralt felt his last shred of hesitance melt away and he grinned.

“Show me, Geralt.”

Geralt stepped into the clearing where the man stood at a small fire, drinking from a flask. He began walking forward slowly and heard the bows in the trees notch and draw. He didn’t stop.

“Not one step closer.” The man said, not even bothering to look at Geralt.

“I am unarmed.” Geralt said, throwing out his arms from his bare chest as he kept walking purposefully, slowly. “I heard there were bandits in the area and I was sent to investigate.”

The man did look up then and gasped. Geralt heard the bowstrings tighten. He grinned as he stepped forward.

“I know you.” The man said, visibly shaken. “You’re that witcher that lives around these parts.”

“So I am.” Geralt smiled, continuing forward. The man reached for his sword.

“I told you not to come any closer.” The man barked, his eyes wide as he backed away from the fire. “What business do you have here? We are bandits, hardly monsters the witchers would deal with.”

Geralt stopped and laughed.

“How would you define a monster?” Geralt asked, his chuckle deepening. In a flash he was on top of the man and had grabbed his hand, effectively stilling him from drawing his sword. The man let off a choked cry as Geralt pulled himself flush to him. There was a shout from the trees, but Geralt paid it no mind.

“You… You hunt monsters, non-humans.” The man shuddered as Geralt grabbed the man’s sword and threw it into the fire. He cast Quen and then grabbed the man by his head. The man was shaking in his grasp.

“I would say someone who attacks innocents on the road who are traveling and steals their wares and murders them are pretty monstrous.” Geralt tilted the man’s head and licked a long line up his neck, reveling in the salty taste of sweat, and days without a proper bath. The effect was immediate; the man called out and struggled. The smell of fear and arousal hit the air as Geralt nuzzled the man’s neck.

“Further still, I would say that the kidnapping and selling of said persons is pretty monstrous as well.” There was a commotion behind him as an arrow flew and bounced off the Quen without issue. The man against him moaned as Geralt pulled his hair.

“My aren’t we eager.” Geralt purred into the man’s ear. “So willing and pliant in my hands. Had fantasies about being ravaged by one of my kind, have you?”

“What… Please… let me go.” Geralt bit and sucked at the man’s neck, causing the bandit to grab onto him and choke back another cry. “God’s please, what… what are you doing!”

“You want this, I can smell it.” Geralt’s vision went red. He could feel the man’s pulse.

_Now Geralt._

Geralt lurched forward and sank his teeth into the man’s neck. Ambrosia hit his tongue, causing Geralt to moan against the man and bring his hips flush to him. The thin alcohol-rich blood flooded into his mouth with enough force that Geralt nearly choked and he drew, drew hard. He pulled and swallowed mouthful after mouthful of the man’s blood. It filled him, pushed him. The man was screaming in a pleasure induced agony as the venom in Geralt’s fangs wrecked its way through his body. Geralt growled against his throat as he swallowed, lost in the taste. Geralt pulsed with energy, pulled in by the blood. He pulled off the man and roared. Regis answered with a roar of his own.

Geralt stumbled backwards and let the man fall to the ground. A flare was lit and the alarm bells began to clang from the fortress. Geralt turned as one of the men from the trees launched at him.

Geralt let the Quen fall and darted to the charging man. The man was caught off guard and Geralt picked him up as if he were an apple and laughed.

“So slow.” Geralt hissed.

“You… You’re a monster!” The man called out. An arrow was loosed and Geralt caught it midair and shoved it into the man’s thigh. The man howled and Geralt wrenched his head to the side and found his mark.

“Yesssss.”

He pulled again. This time the blood was thick, wonderful, and well fed. Geralt started biting harder into the man’s neck than was necessary and the blood rushed into him. He felt the man’s heart shudder. He ripped his teeth from the man’s neck, taking a chunk with him. The man stumbled backwards, gripping at the gaping wound and screaming. Another arrow rushed by Geralt’s head and he tracked it to the trees.

He could feel it, taste it. The thirst that should have been slacked increased. Time seemed to slow, and Geralt laughed. He used his claws to scale the tree and tore the bow from the hands of the bandit who screamed. He attempted to jump down, but Geralt’s claws extended and he speared him through. He ripped at the man’s throat, swallowing deep. Heat raced through him as the man began to bleed on him. He begged and pleaded; it just added to the flavor. When his pulse began to weaken Geralt threw him to the ground. The fall silenced him as he broke his neck.

Geralt felt dazed as the blood rushed through him. He wavered on the branch for a moment before picking up another heartbeat. This one was running towards the fortress. He called out again, the inhuman sound ripping from his throat as he jumped to the ground and dashed after the man, who had already hit the clearing in front of the fortress. Geralt heard and saw the other bandits panicking.

He caught up to the man and grabbed him from behind, wrenching his head to the side, and bit him in clear view of the whole of the fortress. He allowed the venom to flow, and the smell of arousal once again filled the air. Screams went up. Geralt ran his hands along the man’s front as he bucked.

“Vampire!”

“The moon! It’s full! Melitele!”

“That’s no vampire…”

Geralt let go of the man’s neck and pulled his claws through the man’s middle. A strangled cry went up as Geralt bisected the man, gore falling from him as he let the torso fall. He screamed and choked as Geralt began to walk forward.

“Fire!”

Geralt blasted the incoming volley with Aard, sending the arrows flying away.

“That’s no vampire, that’s a witcher!”

_Geralt, careful._ Regis’ voice broke through the haze.

“You are outnumbered, witcher!” A man, the leader, called from the battlement.

Geralt licked at his arm, drawing the blood that was there into his mouth and shuddering.

“He’s…”

“Send out Fellyn.” The leader said. “Let him handle the witcher.”

“A gift? For me?” Geralt shouted, laughing. “You shouldn’t have!”

A large scarred and tattooed man ambled out of the fortress’ entrance. He had a battle axe, and Geralt could tell immediately that the man was playing at being slow. He grinned.

“Mind your tongue, monster!” The leader said. “End him, Fellyn!”

The man approached Geralt and Geralt grinned. He scented him. He was at his peak, physically, and his blood was free of contaminants. He didn’t allow the man to lift his axe. With a quick motion of his fingers he cast Yrden, gluing the man to the spot.

“Magic! He used his witcher magic!”

“Such a specimen.” Geralt purred, approaching the still man whose eyes widened. When he reached the man he made a show of running his hands down the trapped man’s arms, tracing the scars. When he got to the axe he plucked it out of the man’s hands.

“Kill him! What are you doing, Fellyn, move!” The leader called from the battlement.

“Ah, but he is mine!” Geralt looked up to the man on the battlement as he ran his hands down the large warrior’s chest. “You gave him to me, it would be disappointing to not enjoy such a gift.”

Geralt took the large man’s arm as he couldn’t reach his neck. He licked a languid trail down and the man choked.

“Please, let me go, I… I’ll run… I won’t fight… just please.” The warrior stammered.

“Ah, such cowardice, and here I thought they had sent me a fine gift…” Geralt purred, drawing the man’s wrist to his mouth. “You will still be of use though…”

Geralt pierced the man’s wrist with his teeth and willed a thread to form. He let the venom run through him, and the smell of the man changed to arousal, like the others. Geralt grinned as the thread locked into place and he released the Yrden. The man stumbled and pulled his wrist away.

“To me.” Geralt barked. The man looked at him hazily and approached him. Geralt plucked at the thread and the man leaned down and Geralt kissed him. He bit at the man’s tongue and blood flowed into his mouth. The man groaned against him and he felt his hands running through his hair. Arousal blasted through the bond through both ends. He couldn’t spot him, but wherever Regis was, he was enjoying the show.

Geralt pulled away and handed the man back his axe. The man’s blood flowed out of his mouth and out of the wound on his wrist.

“He’s bewitched him, the faggot!” Geralt turned to the man who had called out and narrowed his eyes. He cast Axii and the man stumbled forward, breaking the line as the others called out and reached for him to stop.

“Ah, you use your words so harshly.” Geralt purred, approaching closer to the throng that stood at the entrance, their fear and tension bleeding through the air in the erratic thrum of over fast hearts. “But I can smell it… turn and show them how this has affected you. Show them your shame.”

The man turned and pulled down his trousers. Sure enough his cock was rock solid and leaking. Something Geralt couldn’t have done in such a short amount of time. The man choked a sob. Geralt grinned, but something inside him was tugging at him, telling him to ease back. He pointedly ignored it when he heard the draw of bows once again. He quickly cast Quen once more, blocking them from being hit by the volley. Rage ripped through him. Pure rage. They would pay, all of them.

“Now now, not so fast.” Geralt called, approaching the man who stood with his cock out. “Let him show you…”

Geralt approached the man from behind and wrapped his arms around him in a lover’s embrace. The man groaned into his touch as Geralt nuzzled his neck. The throng grew silent, horrified. Scents changed as the man began to stroke himself with fierce movements. Regis had misted in behind the men and was standing against the door to the entrance to the dungeons, his eyes black. Geralt felt arousal pulse through the bond and he bit down on the man’s neck, drawing deep. His inhibitions were gone. Pushed to the side from the blood glut, rage, and all the other feelings that he was currently warring with. The man called out as Geralt drew, his pacing becoming furious.

Geralt thrust himself against the man as the large warrior fell into line behind him. The man he drank from called out, his head abandoned to the venom and the feeling of his own hand. Geralt groaned against his neck as the man spilled his seed for all to see in large ropy spurts onto the grassy ground. Geralt released him and the man spilled forward, panting.

“He has fulfilled his purpose.” Geralt said coldly, as the haze of blood washed over him once again. He plucked the thread to the warrior behind him and he stepped forward. With a clean swing of his axe the man severed the head of the bandit that had just come up.

“KILL HIM.” The leader screamed and movements started all at once.

Geralt screamed, the double layered sound causing the men to balk and grab at their ears. It was all the hesitance he needed. He cast Axii twice more on random people and ordered his thrall forward. Geralt dashed forward with inhuman speed, and the melee began.

Geralt wasn’t sure what exactly happened as he began ripping into people. Blood flowed into his mouth as he ripped out throats and coated his hands as he tore people apart. His thralls followed after and the bandits began to strike at one another, not sure who was or wasn’t under control of the renegade witcher. One thought pulsed through Geralt’s mind. It blocked out all others.

More…

“More…. MORE!” Geralt careened through the crowed and found another victim, noticing Regis’ eyes once again on him. He was shuddering as Geralt drew fully and completely. Geralt couldn’t hear anything. His ears were buzzing and his head was spinning. He felt his body shift and suddenly the landscape around him changed. Everything brightened and Geralt could see the warm blood flowing through the bodies of the men he was after.

“Geralt!”

Geralt lashed out and caught another man. This time he ripped through him, seeking his heart. He found his prize, ripped it out and squeezed the still beating organ into his mouth. This was even better! Geralt tore into the flesh of it and swallowed. He threw the rest to the ground and found another.

“Retreat! Close and bar the gate!” The leader called out through the chaos.

Geralt could see everything as he tore through the rest, not noticing where the ones that were escaping were running to. He felt the thread to the warrior he had in his thrall snap as an arrow found his eye and he fell. Geralt charged at the gate and slammed into it with enough force to shatter his shoulder. He howled as he felt the bones instantly knit themselves back. He raked at the gate with his claws, desperate for more, but the metal would not yield.

“Come back to me, Geralt.” Regis shouted both over the bond, and loud enough that Geralt could hear it.

Geralt hissed and turned on him. Three thoughts ran through his mind. Mate, blood… mine! He roared and charged at Regis. Regis shifted into his vampiric form and growled.

“There are fucking two of them!” Someone from the battlement called out.

Geralt hissed as arousal charged through the bond and he and Regis clashed. This was unlike the spar from earlier that day. He was on even footing with the vampire now. However, something else also raced through him. He let Regis pin him and craned his neck. Regis’ fangs found their mark and Geralt felt relief rush through him as Regis pulled away some of the excess energy. Regis pulled long and hard, thrusting his hips into Geralt’s as he did so. Geralt keened, need flashing through the bond. He pulled at Regis’ hair, pulling him away from his neck. Regis snapped at him and Geralt crushed his lips to the vampire’s. He tasted his blood in Regis’ mouth as he fought with Regis for control. Regis pushed away, panting.

“Gods, Geralt… This is like…”

“Get me up there, Regis.” Geralt panted, the energy had eased but his need to partake had not slacked. Not one bit.

Regis looked down at him, his thick vampiric brows lowering.

“I need to finish this, Regis.” Geralt keened. An arrow flashed past their heads and Regis hissed up at the wall.

Without preamble Regis was in his bat form and had Geralt in his claws. Geralt felt the ground fall away in a rush as Regis pumped his wings, quickly taking them into the sky.

“They are fire-blind.” Geralt called, looking down. The wound at his neck had already sealed and healed.

Regis circled once as the men on the top of the battlement all looked to the west where Regis had taken off to. Regis dove downward and landed silently on the side of the tower. Geralt dropped to the ground silently and Regis followed suit. All the men were looking over the edge. The prisoners in their cages were cowering. They couldn’t see anything that was happening on the ground and the sudden appearance of the blood drenched witcher and the vampire had stunned them into silence.

“Finish them, Geralt.” Regis purred against Geralt’s ear. “Finish them and you shall have your reward.”

Geralt grinned and sauntered over to the wall where the men were shouting at one another to look into the distance. Geralt placed himself right next to the bandit leader and sized him up. He was wearing chain and plate armor. He had a sword drawn and ready. His scent was thick with fear and fisstech. Geralt felt his mouth watering again as he leaned up to the man’s ear.

“So what are we looking for?” Geralt purred. The man turned and his eyes got wide.

He let off an unintelligible scream and slashed his sword clumsily at Geralt. Geralt danced away from him and put himself into the center of the battlement.

“Now now, I asked a question.”

“You killed my fucking men!” The man roared. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to create this Hanza? Do you have any idea? Years!”

“Should have chosen a different profession then.” Geralt said as the remaining men surrounded him.

“I know who you are Geralt de Corvo Bianco, Toussaint’s resident witcher.” Geralt looked at the man nonplussed.

“And? Congratulations, you know my name and my profession.” Geralt grinned. “Unfortunately for you, you are just another in the long line of people I will have killed for choosing the wrong path in life.”

The man roared and charged at Geralt clumsily. Geralt moved out of the way of his charge and tutted.

Geralt felt movement behind him as one of the men charged at him. Geralt spun, grabbed the man, and in one fluid motion ripped into his neck and drew again. Bloodlust stole over him once more as the other men and now the prisoners began to scream. Geralt tore away from the man’s throat before he could die and the man stumbled forward reaching for his leader. The man grabbed at him and fell to the ground, his body twitching as he died.

“You are no witcher.” The man spat. “Reme, the silver!”

A sword was thrown and caught by the leader. Geralt eyed it and scoffed.

“That thing is chipped and about ready to fall apart.” Geralt said. “Really, if you were going to attempt to fell me, at least do me the honor of doing it with a blade that is in a good state.”

“ATTACK!”

Geralt swiftly dodged the attacks that flew at him. He had to admit he was impressed. The remaining men were fighting for their lives, and were coordinated. They all charged at him and Geralt dodged away, quickly ripping at those he could with his claws.

He didn’t realize it was a distraction till he turned and found the silver sword flashing forward. Geralt felt his breath still as the blade pierced through his chest and heart. Regis made a strangled sound and the bond with Dettlaff roared to life as the other vampire felt Regis’ distress. Geralt looked down as the men backed off.

“See! You have lost!” The man crowed triumphantly. Geralt hissed as the pain finally caught up with him, sobering him somewhat. It was a strange pain, a dull pain. He looked at the man and smiled. He pulled himself forward onto the sword allowing it to pierce through his back. The man balked as Regis roared. Geralt sent a reassurance through the bond at both members of his pack and grinned. Had he been in the right state of mind he would have realized how panicked Regis was, but he wasn’t.

“Ah, have I?” Geralt said, feeling the taste of his own blood at the back of his throat. “How would one fight if you do not have a sword?”

He wrenched himself to the side, using the same technique Regis had earlier that day, and the sword slipped from the man’s grasp. He grinned and pulled it out slowly as the men watched on in horror. Geralt coughed and spat blood as he finally dislodged the sword and gripped it in his hand.

“Now you petty filthy thief, you shall witness what a witcher can really do.” Geralt spun on his men, the chipped silver sword flashing in the moonlight.

He finished them all in a matter of seconds and stood in front of the leader of the bandits, the silver sword dripping with blood.

“Silver for monsters.” Geralt said, taking the sword and licking the blood off the edge of the blade as his men fell one by one, succumbing to their injuries. The man fell to his knees as Geralt threw the sword away; it shattered upon impact with the hard stone of the battlement.

“Please, spare me, witcher, vampire… whatever you are.” The man pleaded, mumbling. He pissed himself and Geralt laughed.

“You have caused a great many hurts to the people of this place.” Geralt said, lifting the man up. “This place, these lands? They are mine. MINE.”

He bared his teeth at the man fully as he struggled against Geralt’s grip.

“You have soiled MY lands, come to MY home, and stolen from MY people.” Geralt growled. “And now you expect me to spare YOU?”

Geralt laughed as the man choked out a cry.

“No…” Geralt lifted the man so he was face to face. “No, I shall enjoy every last drop of you, and you shall fade into nothingness. Unknown, forgotten. You came from nothing, and to nothing you shall return.”

Geralt wrenched the man’s head to the side and latched on. He slowly pushed his fangs in as the man screamed and struggled. He wanted to draw this out. This was his final one of the night, and he wanted to feel the man succumb slowly. He pulled softly and let the venom lace through his teeth. The man was blubbering and the scent of tears and piss filled the air. Geralt pulled slowly, draining the man of his essence. At the last possible moment he pulled away, not able to drink another drop. He felt full to bursting and his head swam.

He lashed forward, gutting the man. Then as his rage picked up he pulverized him.

A gentle hand on his back brought him back and caused him to look up. Regis was smiling down at him, he looked sad. A heated flash lashed through Geralt as he examined Regis.

Regis made a motion with his hands and the terrified prisoners in the cages all fell. Sleeping.

“You did well, Ger-” Regis didn’t have the chance to finish before Geralt flashed forward and smashed himself into Regis. Heat lashed through the bond as the blood lust turned into actual lust and Geralt crushed himself into the vampire. Regis growled low in his throat as the unsung worry at seeing his mate speared through fell to the wayside. The vampire turned into mist, his clothes dropping to the ground. Regis reappeared and Geralt attempted to go after him again, but Regis held him at bay and in a smooth movement stripped Geralt of his leather pants with his claws.

“Please, Regis…” Geralt panted. He was hard, leaking, full of blood and energy he had no idea what to do with now that the bandits were all dead.

Regis growled and examined the place where the sword had run him through.

“That was careless, Geralt.” Regis scolded. finally able to voice his concern. “Careless, and… gods….”

Geralt couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled the vampire up fiercely and crushed his mouth to his. When their kiss deepened Geralt bit his tongue and let his blood flow into Regis’ mouth. The reaction from the vampire was instant. Regis cupped Geralt’s head and led them to a pile of furs that was up against the wall of the tower. Geralt cried out as he was forcefully pressed down into the furs and Regis gripped at his cock.

“You should see yourself, Geralt.” Regis panted, grabbing at a bottle he must have placed here earlier, during the fray. “You… You look like one of us, you smell like one of us. Gods. You are…”

Regis brought his knee forward and supported himself as he reached forward and touched Geralt’s face. Geralt willed his claws back to being short and followed suit. He felt his own nose, flattened and sensitive, then felt his cheeks, sharp and pronounced. He felt his head, noticing the ridge. Geralt’s eyes must have widened.

“And let’s not forget…” Geralt suddenly found himself calling out as Regis licked along his ear. His ear, which was now long like an elf’s, and just as sensitive. Incoherent noises made their way out of his mouth as Regis licked, sucked and nibbled. He choked out a cry of need, flashing his arousal through the bond with enough force that Regis’ cock jumped and a steady stream of precum started to leak.

“Please Regis… Help…” Geralt thrust his hips up and canted his neck to the side. Regis growled low in his throat and pulled away. He opened the bottle, and let its contents dribble over the ridged edges of his vampiric cock. Geralt chanced a look down to his own and gasped. It had changed as well. He reached for it but his hand was instantly swatted away.

“You will not touch yourself, Geralt.” Regis hissed. “You have had your fun, now I am in control.”

Geralt nodded and dug his hands into the furs to prevent himself from further exploration. He could feel the reasoning. It made sense. Geralt was teetering on the edge of losing himself.

Regis lifted Geralt’s hips and pushed some furs under them to keep him at a good angle and then positioned his cock at Geralt’s entrance. Just the pressure on his hole caused Geralt to see sparks. Regis grinned, his red irises pulsing with an inner light Geralt had never seen before. When Regis entered him Geralt called out. The movement was swift and wanted. Regis wasted no time and before long Geralt was hollering and incoherent. His world had centered down to two things: the pressure of being filled, and the scent Regis was emitting, which was stronger and thicker than Geralt had ever smelled it. Geralt could even discern what it meant now. Possession, need, arousal, and pheromones that were driving Geralt to frenzy. When the bond opened fully as it always did during these times Geralt could feel what Regis was feeling.

Regis roared as he pounded into him. He wasn’t holding back and Geralt keened in response. The grunts and growls coming from Regis’ mouth were enough for Geralt to about lose himself, so when the vampire adjusted his angle, he felt his orgasm roll deeply through him. The amount of cum that shot out of Geralt startled the both of them and Regis paused for a moment to admire his handiwork.

“So filthy, filled with blood, covered in it, and cum.” Regis grinned. “And you want more. And that I shall give you.”

Geralt roared this time as Regis began anew. His call was cut short as Regis leaned over him and bit into his neck. Geralt keened as Regis drew from him once more, the pressure easing, and Geralt’s cock throbbing. When Regis came Geralt could feel it. The vampire called out and Geralt could feel his cum splashing out of him and into the furs.

Geralt flipped them and Regis let out a strangled noise through bloodied lips as Geralt began to ride him, setting the pace even harder than Regis had. Geralt impaled himself over and over on the vampire, and Regis strained against him. Geralt grinned as he tore into his own wrist and let the steady stream of blood drip onto Regis’ face. Regis craned up, his tongue lolling out. Geralt had never seen anything so erotic in all his days.

“Now look who’s filthy.” Geralt hissed as Regis keened. Geralt felt himself fast approaching climax once again. He came with a shout and painted Regis from his cheeks to his chest. Regis languidly brought his fingers up to the fluid, sucking at it.

“Exquisite.” Regis purred. Geralt wasn’t done. He slipped off of Regis’ cock, who made a noise of protest before Geralt grabbed at the bottle of oil and applied it to his own cock.

Regis bit at his lip as Geralt entered him slowly.

“Gods, Geralt, yes… Fill me.” Regis crooned.

Geralt groaned and thrust forward. It was Regis’ turn to come undone at Geralt’s hands. He worked at the vampire with his calloused hands as he thrust. The moon’s energy had them both and there wasn’t a soul around for miles. They growled, hollered, and finally Regis outright screamed when Geralt began thrusting against his sweet spot. Geralt found himself falling into Regis’ pleasure, and Regis into his. White light and lust filled them to the brim as they were taken over the edge together.

They kept going. For how long Geralt wasn’t sure, as he had lost count. By the end of it they were covered and sticky in sweat and cum. Both of them had fallen out of their vampire forms, and Regis was currently latched to Geralt’s wrist. With the amount of blood Regis had taken from Geralt, Geralt was sure he was going to run dry, but it just kept coming, and he still felt overfull. Doubly so now that he was back in his human form, which again seemed several sizes too small.

Regis pulled away and his head lolled back into the furs.

“Finally sated?” Geralt asked, eyeing the vampire.

“Mmmm” Was the only noise Regis could make. Both of them were spent. The night’s air had started to cool, and Geralt was wrapped up in a nest they had made of the furs. He was content, sated, and pleased with himself, but there was something else, something missing that he couldn’t put a finger on. Something dull in the back of his mind he wouldn’t find an action for.

“We have to clean this up before morning.” Geralt said, looking out at the cages where the prisoners still slept. “We have to set them free, and we have to burn the bodies.”

“That… is an insurmountable task Geralt, especially right at this moment.” Regis huffed and snuggled into Geralt. “I am too drunk to fly, you are too drunk to stand, and neither of us is likely to move for the next few hours.”

Geralt worried at his lip as he stroked his hand through Regis’ hair.

“Could Dettlaff maybe lend us part of his pack?” Geralt asked, looking down at the vampire. Regis popped his head up and looked at Geralt, and then a grin plastered itself across his rosy face.

“That is a splendid idea.” Geralt opened up the bond between him and Dettlaff and he felt Regis doing the same. Dettlaff was sleepy and annoyed, but he understood, and promised he would send some folks right away.

Right away it turned out, was indeed right away, as within minutes a pack of nervous bruxae arrived.

As more lesser vampires began to trickle in, Regis told them what they needed to do. What started out as a nervous movement of creatures who were unsure of the locals, turned into a happy working atmosphere, and soon a feast, while the two men settled in a pile of stolen pelts. Geralt balked as two ekimmaras tore a body apart in front of Geralt, happily ripping apart the flesh and consuming it.

“You have provided them with a gift, Geralt.” Regis nipped at Geralt’s chest from his position. “Most of those here have families they are feeding. Dettlaff has a warren filled to the brim with new families and pups. Food, especially of the human variety, is hard to come by. You have provided them with access, and since they are already dead, the magic that courses through human blood has dulled and will not harm them beyond a slight intoxication.”

“Tell them to gather the ears.” Geralt said, his head swimming. “I will take them to Rafael tomorrow and get compensation for taking out the bandits.”

Geralt looked at the vampires as they moved about, picking at the best pieces of meat. Regis hissed out something that Geralt couldn’t understand and made a mental note to get Regis to give him lessons in the vampire tongue. He sighed contently and snuggled in till a pressure let itself be known that required immediate attention.

“Regis…” Geralt said, shifting himself. “I have to get up.”

“You are in no condition to get up, Geralt.” Regis mumbled, snuggling closer and yawning.

“No… Regis…” Geralt said and pushed the vampire off of him. “Help me get up. I have to piss. Have to piss, have to get the fire started…”

Regis groaned and cursed under his breath as he pulled himself upright. Geralt hissed at the sudden loss of warmth, and took Regis’ offered hand. Regis pulled Geralt up and led him to the edge of the battlement, where he let Geralt go. Geralt instantly wavered, tilting forward.

“Oh…” Regis said. “Well then…”

Regis pointedly turned away and kept his arm on Geralt’s shoulder to steady him as he emptied his bladder. It dawned on Geralt that he was naked, and Regis was naked, and the vampires around him, every last one of them was naked. He laughed.

“Come on, Geralt, hurry it up.” Regis groused.

Geralt finished, still chuckling to himself as Regis pointed him away from the edge and let him go. Geralt stumbled, but caught himself, and began to hum as he stumbled his way forward towards the gate and the stairs. He turned to look at Regis, who was now relieving himself over the edge and chuckled. Just as he was ready to start down the stairs Regis caught him and guided him downwards.

“Should you really be attempting to use your magic in such a state?” Regis asked as they slipped through the gate and the pile of bodies came into view. Vampires were all around them, calling to one another, eating, and gathering bodies, ears, and firewood. They had constructed an admirable if macabre pyre.

“Just tell ‘em to back up, not sure how powerful this will be.” Geralt mumbled as he remembered his Igni at the orphanage. Regis called to them and the conversation stopped and they all backed away. He aimed his fingers and let the magic flow. Much to his surprise it was well controlled, and didn’t immediately set the area on fire. The pyre caught and a small cheer went up. Geralt felt rather proud of himself.

“Well that was less harrowing than I was expecting.” Regis said through a yawn. “Come… let’s return.”

They walked up the stairs, with Geralt stumbling on the last couple of steps. He threw himself into the furs and groaned. When Regis didn’t immediately return Geralt flopped himself over on his back. Regis was speaking in low tones to a bruxa. Geralt narrowed his eyes. He focused on the bond, which was opened wide, and realized that this was the bruxa that Regis had enthralled. Regis glanced over to Geralt and then motioned for the bruxa to follow him.

“Geralt, this is Vanda.” Regis said, approaching Geralt who was splayed out on the furs. The bruxa blushed and looked down.

“Pleased to officially meet you.” Geralt said, not bothering to feel perturbed as her eyes darted across his form.

“You may address him.” Regis nudged her forward.

“A shy bruxa?” Geralt mused, his brows shooting up. She was nude as well, her deep red hair flowing over her form.

“Not shy… just… overwhelmed?” The bruxa retorted, tucking her hair behind her ear and revealing a breast. Geralt felt himself stirring once again, though this time on full display. Regis chuckled as the bruxa licked her lips.

“I am tasking her with taking the prisoners to Beauclair.” Regis looked over his shoulder to the sleeping humans in the cages. “I would rather like them to arrive in one piece.”

Geralt grinned and sat up a little, his interest peaked.

“First, Geralt. I need to teach you something so you don’t wind up tethering yourself to a vampire unwittingly.” Regis’ tone was matter of fact. He grabbed the bruxa’s shoulders and lowered her to the furs beside Geralt. Geralt could smell her arousal, her general scent; she smelled of the mountains before a snow. Geralt scented her, and she did the same to him. Amusement trickled through the bond.

“Now, do you remember the memory I showed you of the humanist?” Geralt nodded and pulled himself completely upright. He was hard again, despite everything. Regis was swiftly following suit. Geralt looked up at him hungrily, and the same hunger flashed in the vampire’s eyes as well.

“I do…” Geralt said, looking over to the bruxa and pushing her hair out of the way. He looked at her form as a flush raced through her cheeks to her chest. Geralt felt a low growl building in his throat.

“I wish to offer myself to you.” The bruxa blurted, before covering her mouth and looking up to Regis, her eyes wide in horror.

Regis chuckled and Geralt balked.

“Regis… we need to… sort this out, before it gets out of hand.” Geralt said, looking up to the vampire. The moon was straight overhead, and somewhere below music had started, and singing had begun. The vampires were celebrating the moon and the feast. Geralt felt himself torn once again between instinct and morals.

“I will give you the overview and my view on the matter, then we must discuss what I want you to do.” Regis grinned and lowered himself to the furs. “First and foremost, vampires are not humans. Thus we are not bound by their social rules. I have separated myself from the society of vampires for long enough, and have studied humans for long enough that I understand the societal rules placed upon you to keep your behavior in check, and can understand your trepidation. For you specifically, you and your brothers have treaded the line between humanity and other. I know of your enhanced libidos, and yours in particular. Like the witchers, we tend to take a much freer view on carnal relationships, especially on nights like this when the moon is full and our instincts are so close to the surface. We are private creatures by nature, so when an event happens to bring us together, we tend to celebrate it in full, and often will reciprocate with those that want to engage in physical relations with us.”

“Even among mated pairs?” Geralt asked, his breath hitching as Regis’ hand snaked onto his bare thigh.

“There is no jealousy in acts amongst mated pairs partaking in others.” Regis said, grinning as his hand slowly snaked closer to Geralt’s groin. “You, while under the influence of the mating bond, will be unable to even contemplate another mate. Same with myself. Sex is a beautiful thing Geralt, and I have waxed poetic before about it. Humans have many hang-ups created I think in part, to curb the siring of unwanted offspring. Humans are bound by the menstrual cycle. They are in a near constant state of fertility from the onset of puberty till the onset of menopause. Vampires are not. Vampires, and I tried to explain this to you before, are induced ovulators. There has to be very specific conditions met in order for an egg to be released. Thus we are not bound in the same way humans are and can enjoy one another without fear of impregnation. The end result of all of this blather is we never developed a taboo against sex, and will happily partake in its wonders if the desire to do so arises.”

“I thought he was one of our kind?” The bruxa asked as Geralt licked the tip of one of his fangs. “Is he not?”

“Do not interrupt, dear.” Regis tutted as his hand found the fuzz at the base of Geralt cock. Geralt sucked in a breath at the touch.

“As I was saying, back to us specifically, Geralt.” Regis glided his fingers along Geralt’s length in a feather light touch. “I find myself in a position I have wanted to be in for a long time, and this time without blood as the bolster to such proclivities. And you? You are a witcher, a witcher that has driven the women in your life to madness with your need to seek out the comforts of the flesh. Your willingness to participate with Yennefer, with me, and your lack of guilt about it after the fact, and your lack of jealousy about me initiating the act was a clear indicator to me that you and I share much of the same ideals. We find sex a pleasure, regardless of who is initiating the act. You need it like you need air, and I need it like I need blood.”

“And you didn’t freak out when the wolves came to play.” Geralt’s eyes widened as understanding raced over him, understanding and wonder. “You understand it, understand it and you actively encouraged it. You knew what would happen when they had me, you knew and allowed it to happen.”

“Quite right.” Regis’ expression became hungry. “The only regret I had about that situation is that I was so sick from Fringilla’s blood I only got to watch the end.”

“You like to watch,” Geralt said, his own expression darkening with lust. “I... like to watch. To watch you come undone at another’s hands…”

Geralt felt the bond pulse with heat. He groaned as Regis’ hands stroked him.

“Now, we are on the same page, and we both agree that this is the best way forward yes?” Geralt nodded enthusiastically as the bruxa shifted next to him.

“Now I asked you earlier if you had remembered the words because I do want the humans who are here to get to Beauclair without incident, and the only way to do so is to feed our friend who has offered her body so willingly for us.” Regis said, acknowledging the bruxa and releasing Geralt’s cock. “I would like you to feed her, satiate her hunger, while she satiates ours. However to do so the words need to be spoken. And you my dear?”

Geralt looked to the bruxa and his eyes widened. She had her hand between her legs and was stoking herself. Geralt growled low.

“You are to listen to him, and do not deviate from his instructions.” Regis purred. “Now, Geralt, if you would.”

Geralt turned to the bruxa and lifted her chin so he could look in her eyes.

“Vanda,” Geralt began licking his lips. “You are not to bite me. I am giving you my life, but not my soul. My soul belongs to another. I give you my blood willingly, but not as a sign of bonding, you will not speak the words, you will not be my pack. You will not be of my tribe as I have none. I share my blood and body with you in friendship, nothing more. Do you accept?”

“I accept, and I add,” the bruxa said, looking to Regis who nodded, “I will not break this which you have asked, and to you my master I am grateful for your offering. This blood will go to aid you and your endeavors, and should I fail in my task my life is yours to do with as you see fit.”

Geralt felt a pulse over the bond. He leaned forward and kissed the bruxa as Regis stood once more, chuckling. Geralt deepened the kiss running his tongue along Vanda’s lips and she moaned into his mouth as she met him fiercely. Geralt ran a callused hand down her chest and found a nipple, and pinched it. She bucked backwards from his mouth and keened.

“Now Geralt, instruct her.” Regis said, his eyes glowing and his cock hard as he stood over the two.

Geralt licked his lips and looked between Regis and her for a moment before settling in on what he wanted.

“You will ride me, and you will bring him to completion through your mouth.” Geralt breathed pulling the slight bruxa onto his lap. “He likes that, likes the pressure, but no teeth. You will make your own lips bleed before you set a tooth on him. As soon as you complete that task I shall offer my blood to you till you are sure you can take the prisoners to Beauclair without being tempted.”

The bruxa grinned and scooted back, grabbing Geralt’s cock with her skilled hands. She stroked him a couple of times and Geralt looked up to Regis who was grinning like an idiot as he stroked himself lazily. Vanda then stroked herself, and Geralt felt his nostrils flaring as the scent of her arousal filled the air. His eyes grew wide as she brought her hand forward. It was dripping with stringy strands of wetness. She grinned as she brought the fingers up to her mouth, and Geralt felt himself salivating. He had partaken of bruxa before, he had forgotten how skilled they were in such areas.

“Ah that’s good, very good.” Regis hissed his cock leaking precum from its tip with his lazy strokes. “But I do believe he gave you an order, I would see you on him.”

The bruxa shuddered as the command rode through her. She grabbed Geralt’s cock once more and in a single smooth movement enveloped him to his hilt. Geralt’s head fell back against the furs at her tightness. She undulated her hips and Geralt groaned. She let off a high pitched noise of pleasure as she bucked her hips and rubbed her pelvis against him. Before she got too wrapped up in the feeling she grabbed Regis’ hips and stilled herself.

She looked at Geralt as her pink tongue darted out between dulled female fangs. She licked down his shaft, holding it before nuzzling against his coleus and nuzzling the orbs there. Regis’ eyes flew open as he hissed down in surprise. Geralt licked his lips and made a mental note that he would use this against him later.

The bruxa grinned and licked back up his shaft. Geralt bucked up into her as her mouth finally met its target and her cheeks hollowed. Regis was lost in an instant, and Geralt looked up at him as the bruxa began to shift her hips in time with her head bobs. Regis’ mouth was open and his breath was coming in ragged gasps. The shocks of pleasure racing through the bond caused Geralt to growl low in his throat. The light of the moon was haloing around Regis’ hair, giving him a silver sheen that made him seem even more otherworldly.

Geralt reached up to the bruxa and began to rub his thumb alongside her clit. She made a noise in her throat that caused Regis to thrust forward fully. He grabbed at her hair and she began to swallow. It was only then that Geralt remembered that the vampires didn’t need to breath. Regis pulled out and thrust forward, and Geralt timed his own movements to Regis’ thrusts. The strangled panting sounds Regis was making was driving Geralt to the edge far faster than he wanted to go. He grabbed the bruxa’s thighs and held her firmly, not allowing her to move her hips against him till he could wrestle control of himself back again.

Regis smiled down at Geralt for a moment before keening. Geralt was able to take in the sights and sounds of Regis fully now that he wasn’t concentrated on his mate’s pleasure.

“Gods Regis, you are so fucking beautiful like this.” Geralt purred. The sound of Geralt’s voice caused Regis to thrust forward and the bruxa swallowed around him.

“Geralt… I….”

“Listen to him, Vanda.” Geralt growled, his voice carrying to the bruxa who was now fighting against Geralt to move her hips. “Listen to what you are doing to him. He is so close.”

Geralt felt control fall back over him and he moved his thumb to her clit again, coaxing her onwards.

“He is going to cum Vanda, do not swallow.” Geralt growled huskily. “I want to taste him on your lips.”

Geralt felt the bond turn to fire as orgasm raced over Regis. The vampire cried out and came in the bruxa’s mouth. He pulled away and stumbled into the furs, his knees going out on him. He panted, looking at Geralt as Geralt ginned and pulled the bruxa by her hair. He locked his lips over the bruxa’s and swiped his tongue over her mouth. She opened and Geralt pulled Regis’ essence from her tongue, groaning; he growled into her mouth as she began to move her hips against him once more.

“Geralt…” Regis keened. Geralt broke the kiss and reached over, pulling Regis down. When their lips met fire raced through Geralt. He moaned against Regis’ mouth, the hedonistic act was taking its toll on Geralt, and he thrust up against the bruxa. Regis pulled away and grabbed Geralt’s wrist. He ripped at it with his sharp teeth and Regis’ venom made its way into Geralt’s system once more. Geralt lolled his head back as ecstasy overcame him and he was held at the edge.

“Remember the words, Vanda, you may only draw, do not bite.” Regis hissed, lifting Geralt’s wrist to the bruxa. Geralt realized, as the bruxa latched onto him and pulled, that Regis was manipulating the bond to hold him on the edge. He felt himself overcome as more of the pressure that had built inside of him from the blood drained off slowly.

Geralt felt his wrist healing quickly and pulled it away from the bruxa’s mouth who was now moving with speed. She was incoherent and calling out, her eyes rolling and Geralt’s blood dripping from her mouth. Geralt growled and ripped at his own wrist, this time tearing deep enough to severe a tendon. His eyes popped open and a sudden concern raced through the bond as Geralt spit out the rune that till that point had been nestled happily in his wrist. The bruxa grabbed at his wrist and began to suck again, as Regis and Geralt shared a wide eyed look.

Geralt blinked as Regis sprang into action, grabbing the rune from the stone floor of the battlement. Geralt looked up to the moon.

His body pulsed, nearly bucking the bruxa from his grip.

“Geralt!”

Geralt felt the change, and could not control it. His body jerked and he felt energy race through him. A strength stole through Geralt and he flipped the bruxa. He felt like he was hovering over her as he crushed his wrist to her mouth and thrust into her. Her eyes went wide as she saw the change, and her body in turn changed. Geralt felt a strange mix of concern and heat race through him. He growled as the bruxa moved her body, writhing with pleasure. Geralt felt her tighten and then she pulled off his wrist and shrieked. The shriek was different, carried a different tone to it than Geralt was used to. It carried words for feelings Geralt could only begin to scratch the surface of. She came hard. Geralt was left wanting and turned to look for his outlet.

“Geralt, we must stop this!” Regis cried out, panic filling the bond. “You lost another! We need to…”

Geralt felt as though reality ripped from his body and felt himself reappear, and had slammed Regis against the wall of the tower. Regis struggled against him, trying to find leverage but finding none. Geralt buried his nose in the crook of Regis’ neck and inhaled. What had been a scent that he was just beginning to understand came into crystal clear view. Regis was receptive. More than receptive. The bond gained clarity. Regis changed his form, becoming vampiric. Geralt felt the strength of Regis then.

“You will stop this at once!” Regis howled. Geralt instantly searched the bond, searched his smell. It conflicted with his words. There was fear there. But it wasn’t towards Geralt. Geralt could feel Regis’ sudden unhindered want. The fear was at himself. Fear of what he was doing to his lover. Fear of himself.

“Your mouth is saying something your body is not willing to obey.” Geralt said, his voice carrying a dark edge to it. “Let go of your fear, Regis.”

Regis hissed and tried to fight against him. Geralt growled and took another long hard sniff of Regis. The information coming from it buffeted him and he was able to decipher so much suddenly. He could smell now Regis was still ill, that he was still recovering from his lack of partaking. He felt his own blood change and shift in response. He could decipher what Regis needed and the mating bond allowed him to shift his blood accordingly. He had no idea how he was doing it but in an instant he had changed internally.

“You will drink again Regis, and drink deeply.” Geralt hissed against Regis’ pointed ear as he positioned himself at Regis’ entrance. “You will not stop until I say you can.”

“Please, Geralt… stop this… You have changed… I…”

Geralt thrust up into him. Regis keened and in the language of the vampires called out for more. Geralt growled low and thrust into him.

“Claim it Regis, claim your birthright.” Geralt hissed. “This is who you are, this is who I am becoming. I can feel it through the bond, stop fighting. Let go. Let me take care of you. You are so much more than what you are allowing yourself to be. Stop this madness, become what you are. Embrace me. You are my forever. Drink.”

Geralt felt the wall in Regis’ mind break down. When the wall crumbled, light flashed through the bond. All of Regis’ feelings came flooding through. Geralt drank his fears, drank his sadness, drank all the feeling of self-loathing and turned them on their ends and fed them back to Regis, breaking them crushing them, healing them and replacing them. The bond pulsed. Regis tore into Geralt’s throat, the movement animalistic. Geralt felt his blood rushing into Regis and felt his mate tighten against him. Regis’ scent began to clear, the under tang of sickness, of loss, of grief disappearing in an instant.

Geralt realized Regis had been holding back since the bond was first formed; his own fears at being rejected not allowing him to give what he thought Geralt couldn’t handle. Geralt crushed those fears, crushed them, and pulsed his absolute acceptance of Regis through the bond.

The wall finally fell and everything that Regis was rushed into Geralt, filling him to the brim. The whole of Geralt that existed in Regis already sang, and Geralt felt Regis’ soul soar. Light enveloped Geralt as they both began to reach their peak. When they hit the apex the universes folded in on themselves and Geralt could no longer tell where he ended and Regis began. They were one. Finally one. A unit. A whole. Regis was whole once more. Pleasure ripped through them.

When Geralt came back into himself and the liquid feeling of the bond began to settle he realized Regis was still sucking weakly at his neck. He lifted Regis’ head gently off his neck. Regis had tears running down his face. Geralt smiled gently.

“There you are.” Geralt cooed, running his hand through Regis’ now thick hair. “I knew I would find you eventually.”

Regis’ black eyes searched Geralt’s red. Geralt pulsed acceptance through the bond and Regis choked.

“Gods, I was so… so afraid.” Regis said, his voice miserable. “I…”

“Shhhh.” Geralt brought their foreheads together. “I know Regis, I know. Now you have nothing to fear. We are here, we are one. My forever. Can you feel it? Can you feel your heart? It knows me now, they are singing to one another, and it’s beautiful, Regis. You are beautiful. I can’t express it enough.”

“Geralt…” Geralt blinked as a soft glow began to emit from Regis. The spots that weaved down his form pulsed with the light. Geralt withdrew from Regis and took him over to the furs.; he laid him down and then stood back and took him in full. Patterns of light danced across his skin, the glow soft and blue. The light shimmered through the silver streaks of his hair.

“Geralt!” Regis sat up and gasped. Geralt looked down at himself and he was glowing as well. His own glow red. Patterns of stripes weaved their way through the lines of Blaschko that were present in all humans. He grinned as Regis touched him and where he touched the glow increased.

“You…” Regis looked down to himself and let off an excited series of churrs.

“Geralt….” Tears were welling in his eyes again. “I haven’t been able to do this since I was a boy.”

Geralt grinned and touched Regis’ face. He drew him into a gentle kiss and Regis sighed against his mouth. When Geralt pulled away Regis laughed, the sound coming easier than Geralt had ever heard it before. Geralt felt his skin prickle and turned to look over the battlement. The vampires had stilled and the music had stopped. They were surrounded by the others, all of them softly glowing.

Geralt turned and nuzzled Regis. He felt whole, complete.

This was how it was meant to be.

CHAPTER END

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok folks before you spaz out remember… Protofleders. They glow. So all vampires glow damnit. Chapter finished 12-29-18


	41. Fork in the road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regis and Geralt head back to Corvo Bianco, where Regis is given a hard task by Yennefer. Regis has to travel to a place he never wanted to see again, and is surprised by what he finds. 
> 
> Geralt walked out of the door and slammed it, his face working in anger. Regis was over to him in a moment, but he pushed the vampire off.
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> “Everyone keeps doing things without my permission!” Geralt hissed. Ciri sat down and looked up to him, her eyes wide. “This is my home, my place!”
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>  
> 
> He stalked over to his bedroom door and looked at it, frowning.
> 
>  
> 
> “Geralt, calm yourself.” Regis soothed. He was unruffled at the rebuff.
> 
>  
> 
> Geralt lashed out at the doorframe, running his claws along the edge. His frown deepened, looking at the marks.
> 
>  
> 
> “Geralt, what on earth…” Barnabas-Basil choked.
> 
>  
> 
> “This place is mine.” Geralt hissed, raking his fingers again on the door frame, then rubbing his wrists along the torn wood and plaster; the scent of shale filled the room. “Mine and his.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***********
> 
> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!  
>  ****
> 
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff
> 
>  
> 
> **************   
> 
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**
> 
> None!
> 
> ****************

Geralt came to in the shadow of the tower as the sun rose over the Amells. When he looked around, he found himself snuggled next to Regis, buried in the furs they had soiled the night previous, and surrounded by a guard of male katakans.

  
Geralt looked over to the cages; they were empty now, emptied after the bruxa set the humans free and her sisters and herself charmed them to follow them to Beauclair.

  
Then he looked down. Regis was snuggled into, him his breath easy and light. His body was absolutely pulsing with warmth and his face was still covered in dried blood; Geralt’s blood. Geralt knew what happened last night wasn’t expected, he hadn’t gone into the night with any expectations other than ‘Don’t die’and ‘Just enjoy yourself’. Regis’ glow and his answering glow had him stumped for words. Regis of course had plenty.   
The vampire had actually fallen asleep while he was attempting to explain the flora and fauna on his home world and how a vampire’s glow acted as camouflage. It also was a fantastic way to judge the virility and respectability of a mate, apparently. He also had told the story of how he’d lost his ability to glow when he was young; the cause had been young vampires of course. He’d been picking flowers in a field, content and thinking he’d been alone. He’d let his mind glow and had been humming to himself when he was approached. The vampires had made fun of him, picked on him, beat him, and caused him to withdraw into himself. It was the single stone that cascaded into a landslide, that had locked Regis into the darkness he had found himself in before the Humanist.

  
He could feel the still waters of the bond lapping at his mind like the shores of a tranquil lake. It was soft, controlled, less frantic than it had been. It felt real, solid. Stable. Little things about Regis’ state were passing to him; something he realized Regis had been gleaning from him the whole time. He could tell Regis was at the final stages of REM through the bond, and from the way Regis’ eyes were moving frantically behind his closed lids. Regis had finally had enough sleep to feel rested. He felt sated from the blood Geralt had shared, but his stomach was constricting for actual food. Regis’ body was at its peak, and it was an odd feeling.Regis’ cheeks had taken on a rosy cast and had lost a touch of their hollowness, and his body felt full and heavy next to Geralt. The dark circles around his eyes hadn’t fully gone away, but now instead of making him look exhausted they made him look as if there were shadows around his eyes.

  
Geralt was somewhat perplexed and actually thankful that Regis’ hair had retained the silver in it, and that his face still wore the lines of middle age. Now, though, it cascaded past his shoulders, and the waves and loose curls sent it every which way as the cool morning breeze blew over them. He seemed to remember Regis telling him at one point in their travels that vampires could control the appearance of their human form. Geralt was thankful that Regis hadn’t changed too much.

  
The pulse of the moon was waning, but Geralt still found himself feeling over energized, and he felt a stirring of lust take hold of him. He pointedly ignored it and took a better look around.  
During the night, someone had gathered his swords and his shirt. They’d also found a set of replacement pants and had cleaned his boots. In addition, a large tub of water had been placed over the slowly burning coals of a fire they had started on the battlement once the humans were away. Threaded on strings were ears, forty-eight of them. Geralt felt a grin settle on his face. The going rate at the Ducal Camerlengo had increased now that the Emperor was ‘coming’: two hundred and fifty crowns per ear.  
He felt the bond stir to wakefulness.

  
“Morning.” Geralt crooned as Regis squinted against the light, burying his head against his chest.

  
“I would say it’s too early, but the sun has risen.” Regis said, muffled against Geralt’s front. “I would like to sleep the rest of this day away, but Yennefer has an errand for us.”

  
“Can we just ignore everything for a minute and focus on what happened last night?” Geralt asked, leaning down and smelling Regis’ hair. “I lost another rune, and the end result was…”

  
“Extraordinary.” Regis breathed, looking up and squinting at Geralt. “For a myriad of reasons, primary was your ability to heal me. I am whole Geralt, for the first time in nearly two hundred years. I am whole and well, and I am not starved. How did you do it?”

  
Geralt looked perplexed, and then focused on himself. He called on his witcher mutations and felt his blood changing. He frowned.

  
“Not sure, I can try to call on my mutations. Maybe I can figure out how to do it again?” Geralt sat up, dislodging Regis from his spot and causing the vampire to grumble. He called on a simple mutation, his ability to control his eyes, and was instantly blinded, causing him to hiss against the light. He adjusted his pupils once more so they were letting the proper amount of light in and groaned.

  
He winced and tried again, this time feeling vaguely sick. Regis sat up, looking at him with a concerned gleam in his dark eyes.

  
“Maybe let’s try it from a different perspective.” Regis stood up and walked over to his bags. He brought a vial of black blood out. Geralt looked up at him, curious.

  
“Bottoms up.” Before Geralt could grab at him, Regis took a swallow of the liquid.

  
“REGIS!” Geralt was up in a flash as Regis suddenly started to look green.

  
Geralt reached over and grabbed ahold of Regis as he collapsed. The bond wavered with vertigoand nausea. Geralt felt his blood shift the second he touched Regis.

  
“You idiot vampire!” Geralt’s sudden yell woke the katakans, who were looking between Geralt and Regis with concern. “Bite me, I know you feel ill, but bite me.”

  
Geralt felt Regis’ teeth against his wrist and he weakly bit down. He felt Regis draw… slow at first, then a full lengthy swallow. Geralt felt the poison neutralize through the bond. Regis pulled away and wiped at his mouth. Geralt looked at his wrist, holding it in the light,watching as it healed.

  
“Little warning next time.” Geralt groused, looking down to Regis as he set him unceremoniously on the floor of the battlement. The katakans came over and sniffed at him gingerly before heading back into the shadows to keep out of the sun.

  
“Not one of my smartest ideas…” Regis whined, looking a bit bashful.

  
“You and black blood!” Geralt’s tone was exasperation incarnate. He snorted and stepped over to the large vat of water, inspecting it.

  
“So we can safely say that your blood will change to be whatever I need of it at the time.” Regis’ voice was analytical as he sat up. “I wonder if it extends from myself to you now that I am fully healed.”

  
“Haven’t you had a bond before?” Geralt asked, gingerly putting a finger in the water. It was a mistake as the water was boiling hot and his finger just about scalded. He grabbed a bucket that was placed nearby and dipped it into the scalding water before pulling it back out and setting it aside.

  
“Yes, I did.” Regis said, pondering. “But you also have to understand at the time, both she and I were at our peak, we were both gluttons, though her far less than me, and both of us were keen hunters at the time. I guess we weren’t together long enough to test out that part of our bond? Strange, isn’t it?”

  
Geralt looked over at Regis who was sat down, frowning. He felt the bond rippling as Regis formulated his words.

  
“You know, in the grand scheme of things we were not together very long.” Regis’ voice became distant. “It seems so fresh still, and yet, I was only with her for half a decade. All total I knew her maybe seven years. I have known you for far longer. I guess looking back on it I was just so excited to have anyone pay any sort of attention to me. I was looking for approval of myself through someone else, and that isn’t the way to go about it.”

  
“What was it like when your bond broke?” Geralt asked, and Regis looked up to him in surprise.

  
Geralt could feel pain rippling through the bond, but it was old pain, healed pain.

  
“It… was like cutting off a part of yourself and not getting it back.” Regis’ voice was hollow and haunted. “When a bonded pair separates, the one initiating the separation will actually begin to detach long before the bond is officially broken. Otherwise the shock would be too great for both of the parties. When the separation occurs it’s like having a piece of you just go numb. It hurts, it’s hard to understand, and it feels miserable. When a bond is broken prematurely, when the pair is still thriving when their bond is full and healthy? – the shock alone can kill. I can compare it to a certain types of birds. When a love bird dies, its mate will follow in agony.”

  
Geralt bit his lip and felt sadness and empathy ripple through the bond.

  
“Have you ever known anyone to go through that?” Geralt asked, his voice soft.

  
“Personally I have not witnessed it.” Regis sighed, glancing up at Geralt. “However our pack member has, I won’t go into it any further than that, as it’s his story, you can ask him about it if you so choose.”  
Silence reigned between them for a moment. Geralt couldn’t imagine it. The closest thing he could compare it to was the anguish he felt when he thought Ciri was dead.   
“Sorry to bring the mood down Regis.” Geralt mumbled morosely, picking up a rag that had been left, and a bar of lye soap.

  
“These are things one needs to discuss, Geralt.” Regis sighed, standing up. “I find myself contemplating actions of my past, and events of my past with far less self loathing as of recent, and it’s good to talk about them with someone I can trust. It’s not something I have allowed myself in some time. But come, the morning is wasting and we do need to get cleaned up. I have a feeling whatever tasks Yennefer has for me today are not going to be simple.”

  
Geralt soaped up the rag and began to clean himself. Regis walked over to the tub over the fire and placed himself in it, hissing. Geralt laughed.

  
“Hot?” Asked Geralt cheekily, scrubbing off the gore of the night’s previous activities.

  
“Very.” Regis shuddered against the heat and grabbed his rag. “Though this way I won’t smell too terrible as most of the organic matter on me will just cook off. Duny will be thankful for that at least. Hand me the soap, Geralt.”

  
They both quickly washed themselves and were drying off when Geralt’s hackles picked up and his nose flared. Blood, fresh human blood. And a heartbeat.

  
“Geralt…” Regis hissed in warning.

  
“Lo? I see you up there, I am loathe to admit it but I am terribly lost.” The voice called. Geralt looked over to Regis and then chanced a look over the edge of the battlement. Regis quickly shut the gate, which snapped closed with a bang. The man below started.

  
“Who goes there?” Geralt called over the edge, his hair still dripping wet.

  
“Ah, seems I have… stumbled across something I shouldn’t have.” The man said, looking confused at the large pile of ash and the various pieces of armor and weapons that were left scattered about the grounds. He took one look at the dirt and swallowed. Blood was everywhere still, the smell of it had died, but the look of it had not.

  
“State your business, traveler.” Geralt called from the wall, looking down at the man. The man was middling height, middling age, with carrot colored hair parted down the middle and oiled down. He carried a set of tools on his back, and masks. Geralt felt confused.  
“I… ah… I am from Etolia.” The man said, looking up to Geralt and balking. “I am a mask maker, and I hail from Etolia. I am looking to trade my wares in Beauclair while the Emperor is visiting. Samhain is coming and I…”  
“You have wandered far from the main road, mask maker” Geralt called. “This place is cursed.; I am a witcher, and I am currently working. You need to keep clear. The path you were on will take you northwest, and you will meet up with the main road. Follow the signs to Beauclair from there.”

  
“A witcher, as I live and breathe!”

  
“Geralt….” Regis hissed, he was dressed. “Get him away from here. The katakans, they have fed, but they will start getting curious…”

  
Geralt cast Axii on the man, and sent him immediately up the path.

  
Geralt felt himself getting anxious as the man continued northwest and disappeared out of sight.

  
“That was a little close for comfort.” Geralt said, trotting back over to Regis and grabbing for his clothes. Regis approached him and handed Geralt the ring once more. Geralt looked at it, then looked up to Regis and sighed.

  
“I know it’s not ideal, but…” Regis started.

  
“I hate hiding.” Geralt groused, pulling his boot on with more force than strictly necessary. “I hate this: secrecy, hiding myself. At least as a witcher I can own who I am.”

  
Geralt snatched the ring out of Regis’ hand, made a rude gesture at it that had Regis chuckling, and slipped it onto his pinky finger.

  
“It’s inanimate, Geralt…” Regis chided, trying to hide his amused smile.

  
“It deserves this anyway.” Geralt grumbled, pulling on his tunic. “Made me feel better at least.”

  
“How are we going to get back?” Regis asked, looking out to the path. “I am most certainly not flying us in broad daylight.”

  
Geralt pulled his amulet out of his shirt and tapped it.

  
“Ciri, need a little help.” Geralt said, letting the familiar pulse of Vesemir’s amulet run through him.

  
_“Geralt?”_ Ciri’s voice was sleep addled. _“What happened?”_

  
“Cleared out that troupe of bandits as TeshamMutna.” Geralt answered. “Need a pick-up back to the estate. Yennefer is there with your… with Emhyr.”

  
_“What?!”_ There was a scramble and a loud thunk. Ciri moaned and Geralt winced. _“Geralt, how did she find out?”_

  
“An accident, actually.” Geralt answered truthfully. “Come get us and when we get back I’ll have Marlene make us breakfast.”

  
The wait for Ciri didn’t take long. Geralt was just fastening his baldric to his chest when Ciri appeared in a wave of green light. She looked disheveled, her hair down and a large bruise marked her face, making Regis gasp. She was wearing a man’s set of trousers and tunic and her boots were still covered in blood. Her swords were strapped across her back.

  
“Good heavens!” Regis went instantly over to her.

  
“Had quite the fight last night with those necrophages.” Ciri chuckled, wincing as Regis looked at the bruise.

  
“You broke your orbital bone!” Regis exclaimed as Ciri shied away from his fingers.

  
“Figured it was something a little more major than just a regular hit.” Ciri snorted. “With as many as there were it’s a wonder we aren’t in any sort of worse state.”

  
“We need to get you to Yennefer.” Geralt sighed, approaching Ciri and taking his turn looking at the injury. “She can heal it so it’s faded by the time of the moot, at least.”

  
“She is going to kill me.” Ciri shuddered.

  
“I doubt it.” Geralt grinned. “She will probably box your ears though. Come on, it’s coming up on mid morning.”

  
Geralt grabbed his strings of ears and braced himself.

  
“Ok, grab my hand Geralt, and Regis.” Ciri said, sighing. “No… like… here…”

  
Ciri grabbed them both and pulled them to her, then all the air went out of them.

  
Geralt stumbled forward unceremoniously and landed in the dust in front of the door of his estate. Regis blinked, his face a mix of mild surprise and nausea.

  
“Well that was different.” Regis shook his head before walking over to lift Geralt up from the ground.

  
“I hate that.” Geralt groaned. “And on an empty stomach too.”

  
Geralt quickly found the thread in his mind that attached him to Barnabas-Basil, and plucked at it, letting him know they were back. The door to the main house opened and his majordomo smiled.

“Ah, master Geralt, master Regis. Welcome home.” He greeted, stepping aside to let them in. “I see your hunt was… _fruitful_?”

  
“Very, and we are starving.” Geralt sniffed the air, smelling water and incense coming from the baths. “Where are they?”

  
“Ah… currently indulging in your baths, master Geralt.” Barnabas-Basil winced. “Yennefer found out all that was needed werea few runes, and took the opportunity to create them so the bath is fully functional.”

  
Geralt hung the ears on a chair and frowned. Barnabas-Basil looked at the ears and sneered in disgust.

  
“They have had all night.” Geralt said, smelling other telltale signs of the exploits that happened in the house. “Where is Marlene?”

  
“She is in the kitchens, Sir.”

  
Geralt shook his head as Regis walked into the bedroom, also shaking his head.

  
“We rushed to get here.” Regis called through the doorway. “The least they can do after using our house as a brothel is greet us.”

  
“Regis!” Ciri shot indignantly as she sat down at the table, pointedly avoiding the chair with the ears. Geralt grinned as he opened the door to the kitchens. Marlene and her scullery made Janice were in there. When Geralt poked his nose in Marlene’s eyes lit up.

  
“Geralt!” She said, smiling. “Just in time! I was about to start breakfast.”

  
“Appreciate it.” Geralt thought for a minute. “Can you make omelets?”

  
The withering look Marlene gave him caused Geralt to grin.

  
“I should box you around your ears for that.” Marlene huffed. “You get out there and deal with your guests, and you will eat what I cook.”

  
Geralt frowned when he shut the door to the kitchens. Unease went through the bond as Regis came out of the bedroom. He frowned even more when Regis let him know why.

  
“Ok, that’s it.” Geralt growled, his gaze hardening. “Time to get our guests.”

  
Geralt rounded the corner and went to the new door. When he tried it he felt the magic. He sighed.

  
“Geralt?” Ciri’s voice carried over.

  
Geralt slipped off the ring and pocketed it for quick access, then pushed the door open. He was buffeted by steam and the strong smells of Emhyr and Yennefer.

  
“Geralt!” Yennefer gasped. Emhyr stood so quickly he dislodged Yennefer from his lap, causing her to land in the water. She spluttered, her hair hanging in undignified clumps in front of her eyes.

  
“I had one rule.” Geralt said, stalking over to the edge of the tub. “What was my one rule?”

  
“Geralt…” Emhyr’s tone warned.

  
“You are guests here.” Geralt spat, crouching at the edge of the sunken bath. “I told you what?”

  
“Keep… keep out of your rooms.” Yennefer said, pulling herself upright. Geralt slipped his ring back on as Ciri and Regis peeked through the doorway.

  
“Did you?”

  
“Geralt, I can explain…”

  
“Yennefer…” Emhyr turned to her, frowning.

  
“Out, both of you!” Geralt barked, standing once again. “You had us coming back here in the morning because you had an errand for Regis. You have had plenty of time to abuse my hospitality. It’s mid morning now, and we rushed to get back here.”

  
Geralt walked out of the door and slammed it, his face working in anger. Regis was over to him in a moment, but he pushed the vampire off.

  
“Everyone keeps doing things without my permission!” Geralt hissed. Ciri sat down and looked up to him, her eyes wide. “This is my home, my place!”

  
He stalked over to his bedroom door and looked at it, frowning.

  
“Geralt, calm yourself.” Regis soothed. He was unruffled at the rebuff.

  
Geralt lashed out at the doorframe, running his claws along the edge. His frown deepened, looking at the marks.

  
“Geralt, what on earth…” Barnabas-Basil choked.

  
“This place is mine.” Geralt hissed, raking his fingers again on the door frame, then rubbing his wrists along the torn wood and plaster; the scent of shale filled the room. “Mine and his.”

  
Regis balked, then walked over to the door where Geralt stood back, looking at him expectantly. Regis hesitated for a second before rubbing his own wrists over the marks. Geralt pointedly leaned over and sniffed at the spot, then nodded. The smell of rain and shale filled the room, not unpleasantly.

  
“O-kay…” Ciri stammered.

  
“That stays there.” Geralt pointed to the mark and looked pointedly to Barnabas-Basil. “The only people allowed to cross that threshold are myself, you and Regis.”

  
“Seems as though your over-reacting just a touch…” Barnabas-Basil started, but was silenced by Geralt’s intense glare.

  
“Geralt has marked it as his, and so have I.” Regis said, standing up straight and taking off his bag. “I am not going to sit here and make a speech about marking and territory, but this place is ours, master Foulty.”

  
Geralt was at the door, his fingers twitching as he sniffed slightly, his eyes unfocused.

  
“Geralt, your beginning to scare me.” Ciri pleaded, breaking Geralt out of his thoughts.

  
“I…” Geralt frowned and then looked over to Regis. His mouth set into a firm line and he made his way to the table.

  
“Cirilla…” Regis cooed, sweeping around the table and sitting beside her. “You must have patience with us as we navigate this new world. Geralt is learning, but a lot of the things he is doing is by instinct. Last night…”

  
“Last night, I learned a few things,” Geralt growled, pointing a look at Regis. “Primary of which is I will be going throughout the whole of the vineyard, doing just that.”

  
Geralt glared at the doorway.

  
Yennefer and Emhyr stepped in, wearing robes and looking sheepish.

  
“Geralt, listen, I went in there last night, and a realize it was entirely stupid on my behalf.” Yennefer started, rolling her eyes as Geralt glared at her.

  
“Yennefer.” Regis purred, his voice low, the same register he had used to seduce her at the palace. “Do not attempt to fool us. We put the rule in place specifically to see how far we could trust you. There was nothing in there for you to seek other than a few outfits for Geralt, and a chest full of flotsam that is of little use to you. Why did you betray our trust?”

  
Emhyr looked at Yennefer and shrugged his shoulders, taking a seat at the table and looking up at her expectantly. This was her fire, she needed to put it out.

  
“I left a book over here.” Yennefer sighed. “And had I known it would have been such an issue I would have sent Barnabas-Basil to fetch it.“

  
Geralt instantly went stiff and felt his cheeks burn.

  
“I… apologize for my outburst.” Geralt ground out as his emotions whiplashed between anger and shame. Regis burst into laughter. Ciri, Barnabas-Basiland Emhyr looked at one another, concerned by the display.

  
“Ok new rule.” Ciri said pointedly, looking at Geralt and Regis. Yennefer gasped as she realized who was in the seat at the table. “You two need to stop talking in your heads and share with the rest of the class.”

  
“What happened to your face!?” Yennefer was over to Ciri in an instant. Ciri winced.

  
“She is trying to change the subject.” Emhyr said, scratching at his beard and his stitches. “She was after one of master Dandelion’s works. ‘The squirrel and the dragon’… A rather lusty retelling of the events leading up to, and after Loc Muinne.”

  
“I rather liked that story.” Barnabas-Basil said, shaking his head. “Far less lusty, and much more – sad, I think.”

  
The whole of the house looked over to him as he sat deep in thought, then shook his head.

  
“The book has its merits.” Yennefer smiled, as a blue glow enveloped her fingers and her necklace pulsed. “There will be time for a Corvo Bianco book club at some point, but now isn’t it. Let’s get caught up, get breakfast, and then Regis, I have need of you.”

 

* * *

 

 

When breakfast was finished Yennefer motioned Regis to follow her outside. He had spent most of the morning trying to quell and calm Geralt’s new found instincts that were now roiling inside the witcher as best as he was able. Even with the ring, the loss of that fourth rune had been a shock. There had been four, so far: two in the neck and two in the wrist. The proximity of the ones in Geralt’s wrists were not near as concerning as the ones in his neck. Regis felt himself pursing his lips as he shuttered part of his mind to allow himself to think on the runes without having his speculations met with panic.

  
When he and Yennefer found their way into the gardens under the greenhouse, Regis sighed. Yennefer settled herself onto the chaise lounge, and Regis found a chair.

  
“Regis, I have a task for you.” Yennefer’s tone was flat and her face unreadable, other than her stormy violet eyes.

  
“As you have mentioned.” Regis snipped, quirking a brow. “For you to come to us this soon it must be serious.

  
“You, Regis, I have come to you.” Yennefer’s eyes were cold, her lips pursed as she threw up a bubble. Regis did the same and they sat in the muffled silence for a moment.

  
“You can block him off, yes?” Yennefer asked, causing Regis to frown.

  
“I do not like the path this is taking.” Regis said darkly.

  
“You will like it even less, if he is to find out.” Yennefer stated. “He can know where you are going, and that you are looking for something inane, but I trust you to have the more level head of the two of you. Emhyr told me of Geralt’s spar with you, in great detail. Told me of the changes he is manifesting and displaying. It’s highly concerning but he is pigheaded and stubborn. There have been rumors brought to us, that we are in need of investigating further, and you are the only one with access to this place.”

  
Regis felt the blood drain from his face. He swiftly and silently muted the bond. Yennefer noticed his pallor change.

  
“You have access to Hen Gaideth yes?” Yennefer questioned causing Regis to suck in a breath.

  
“How do you know its name?” Regis asked, his eyes wide.

  
“How do I know anything, Regis?” Yennefer snapped, pointedly. “I listen, read, and pry my way into any and all information I can get.”

  
“Yes, I have access to it.” Regis answered,wringing his hands together. “I was given free reign of the enclave to investigate Orianna, and search… well, search for a myriad of things.”

  
“Well, I need you to search for a very specific thing.” Yennefer’s eyes hardened. “Rumor has it that the unseen Elder’s lover is here in Toussaint. A rumor brought to us in the form of a bruxa who just about killed Eskel in the process of extracting this information.”

  
Regis felt himself stiffen.

  
“We, meaning the Empire, would like to know who this person is.” Yennefer’s voice took on the air of mock indifference. “I have my own theories as to whom it could be, but it would be an excellent asset to have in case of…”

  
“We need to know who it is so we can manipulate the Elder if necessary.” Regis finished. “I know he is not bonded, lady Yennefer. I personally know that, though how I know, you will have to excuse me fornot elaborating.”

  
“I do not expect you to.” Yennefer nodded, leaning forward. “However, I would like this looked into as swiftly as possible. We ‘delayed’ the Emperor’s caravan so he could announce the moot during the new moon, a time when vampires are at their lowest power. We did this purposefully as I am sure you imagine. With all the happenings we thought it wise to at least take the edge off of any advantage.”

  
“The new moon is often trying for those even of the higher variety.” Regis said, nodding. “It takes a great deal more strength to fight, change, or do anything for that matter. It’s a wise move.”

  
Yennefer waved her hands and something appeared in front of them. She gripped the item softly.

  
“I have learned through the Duchess’ journals that the Elder vampire Farcciois an avid collector of minerals.” Yennefer handed the box off to Regis, who gingerly opened it, then gasped.

  
“I have never seen anything like this…” Regis’ voice couldn’t hide his wonder as he took the large crystal out of the box and rotated it in his hands.

  
“Don’t get too excited.” Yennefer scoffed. “It’s a common quartz, treated with a special mixture of titanium oxide.”

  
“It’s extraordinary.” Regis breathed, putting it back into the case.

  
“You are to give this to him.” Yennefer said, simply. “I have many others if necessary. We need to find out who this person is, and the sooner the better.”

  
“Yennefer, I will try my best but…” Regis looked away and started to shudder. Visions of the Elder looming over him filled his mind.

  
“But?” Yennefer asked, her eyes narrowing.

  
Regis bit at his lip and looked up to the woman, gauging her just as sure as she was gauging him. He winced as his fang nicked his lip. He licked at it and tried to speak, but he started to shake. Yennefer’s eyes narrowed, then widened.

  
“Something happened…” Yennefer breathed, standing.

  
“Don’t!” Regis suddenly drew up and put his hands out. “Don’t get closer.”

  
Yennefer froze to the spot.

  
Regis felt his stomach make a noise of protest and gagged. He quickly schooled himself.

  
“Look, a great deal has happened in these past months,” Regis said, drawing out the handkerchief and the orange oil he kept with him at all times. “Needless to say, I find your quest one I am willing to accommodate. Things have happened to me, Geralt knows the details, but I am not on the fondest of terms with the Elder of the Gharasham. I will do what I can, but I can’t make any promises. In addition, if I am confronted I will have to abandon the quest. I can’t risk… I…”

  
Regis put the handkerchief up to his nose and inhaled as he tried to suppress another gag.

  
“I understand.” Yennefer said, sitting down again and eyeing him. “You are having an awful strong reaction to my scent right now, aren’t you?”

  
Regis nodded miserably.

  
“Not in the way you think.” Regis said, his voice slightly muffled. “Your taste the first time around was exquisite, dare I say on par with the finest of Toussaint’s wines. However, how does wine smell when you are perfectly and utterly hung-over?”

  
Yennefer winced, then her eyes widened.

  
“Did you?” She asked, eyeing Regis.

  
“I did not, not of the humans anyway.” Regis snorted, looking at her withblack, steely eyes.

  
“Then Geralt…?” Yennefer looked back towards the house where Geralt, Ciri and Emhyr were sitting outside. Geralt and Ciri were both sharpening their swords and chatting animatedly.

  
“They were marked for death.” Regis stated, his eyes fierce. “Geralt did as he was commissioned to do.”

  
“Is that why he is so…”

  
“He lost another rune, Yennefer.” Regis shook his head, looking at the violet eyed sorceress. “I have been trying to keep him steady and calm, but it is a difficult process. I am out of my element, and traveling this road blind. I have lived all my life with the intense emotions, learned to school them, control them. Geralt is now getting bombarded by them in a way he has never experienced. The human side of him is horribly confused and wants to lash out at everything. The mutated side of him is fighting with a whole host of instincts that are new to him. He is irritable, and short, more so than normal. The only way to fully control him is to keep him satiated so he has no extra drive to push and seek blood to ease his stress. I allowed him to glut himself. Unfortunately he got too much, and now he is sitting on top of a whole host of extra energy with no outlet.”

  
Regis’ eyes got wide.

  
“I know what to do.” Regis stood up, the rag still under his nose.

  
“Excuse me, lady Yennefer. I will take your quest, and when I find out anything I will come to the palace and report to you.” Regis made a short bow as the sorceress looked on, confused.

  
Regis felt himself grinning. It was perfect. He quickly brushed by Geralt, who attempted to say something to him, and headed for the alchemy lab. Confusion laced through the bond, and he instantly felt Geralt tailing after him down the tunnel to the lab. Once there he looked through all of his bottles till he found the specific one he had set aside. Geralt came jogging into the lab and looked at Regis with confusion.

  
“Geralt, I need to run an errand for Yennefer.” Regis called, taking the bottle and examining it. It was cool to the touch, and what was inside was still very much alive. “I will be gone for a day or two at minimum. You need to visit Dettlaff.”

  
Geralt startled and looked at Regis with concern.

  
“I do?” Geralt asked, running his hand through his hair.

  
“Yes, and you need to give him this.” Regis said. “As well, all that extra energy you are carrying? How overfull you are? You need to give Dettlaff some. It will aid his healing, and I have a feeling we are going to need him sooner rather than later.”

  
“What is this?” Geralt looked at the bottle as Regis handed it to him. “It looks like blood.”

  
“It is.” Regis answered, looking around the lab and gathering up some items. Mostly empty jars.

  
“And whose blood is it?”

  
“It’s Ciri’s.” Regis said simply, causing Geralt to balk.

  
“Before you get too worked up about it, she gave it to me for him specifically…”

  
Regis felt himself whipped into memory. Ciri was crying. Dettlaff was a wreck and was completely incoherent. The only thing slipping over throughtheir bond was pain and numbness.

  
_“Please, I have to do something, anything.” Ciri was clinging to his arm. “Please, Regis…”_

  
_“Well, there is one thing that he will need once he is recovered enough to take it…”_

  
Regis knew from Geralt’s look that he had been sucked into the memory as well. Geralt puffed his cheeksup and sighed.

  
“Why didn’t you give it to him when you visited him the other day?” Geralt asked, as he watched Regis dart back and forth between areas in the lab.

  
“To be perfectly honest with you, it slipped my mind.” Regis shrugged. It was true too. With all the events that had happened since he was let out of that horrible prison, it was a wonder he could keep track of anything. He finally had everything he needed and slipped his bag over his shoulder.

  
Regis looked to Geralt and felt his mind swim. Geralt was leaning up against the wall of the lab, his arms crossed and his hair loose. A roaring heat pulsed through him and he felt himself shuddering despite himself. He sighed as Geralt picked up the change and looked over to him, Geralt’s pupils dilated. Regis felt possession wash over him as he approached the witcher. He tugged at Geralt’s hips and brought them flush with his own.   
He bared his teeth as he scented the witcher. Geralt leaned in, licking at his own lips. Regis couldn’t help it. He leaned in and kissed Geralt long and hard. His changing scent had gone from appealing to absolutely intoxicating as the weeks had worn on. Regis pulled away and pressed his forehead to Geralt’s, trying to school his breathing.

  
“You are never going to leave at this rate.” Geralt husked, brushing his lips with his own as he spoke.

  
“Hmmmm, with where I am going, being here is preferable.” Regis groaned, as Geralt spun their positions.

  
“Come back to me in one piece Regis, and remember, if you see him, if he confronts you, just open the bond.” Geralt spoke. “I will come.”

  
Regis shuddered and looked at Geralt sadly.

  
“I was projecting the whole time I was talking to Yennefer, wasn’t I?” Regis sighed miserably. “I am sorry, she told me to keep it from you.”

  
“She has her reasons, I am sure.” Geralt silenced him with another tender kiss. “You will know if you need to keep it from me for the time being or not.”

  
Regis rubbed his cheek on Geralt’s shoulder and sighed.

  
“I am not looking forward to this.” Regis sighed, and Geralt embraced him.

  
“You will be fine.” Geralt smiled wryly. “Now go before I wind up dragging you out of your clothes.”

  
Regis chuckled as he detached himself from Geralt. Geralt shifted himself and smiled, his yellow eyes looking amber in the torchlight. Regis willed his body to turn to mist and willed himself out of the tunnel.

  
To say Regis wasn’t looking forward to returning to the enclave was a gross understatement. The last time he was there was right before the ball where he’d announced to Geralt that he was back. He was in enough of a hurry to get out that he actually had left his clothes there. Now he was coming back of his own free will to try and find information about the unseen Elder’s mate. Regis shuddered at that thought. For anyone to willingly attach themselves to the elder vampire, especially after what he had done to Regis, they would have to be insane, stupid, or equal amounts of both. He had wanted to be rid of the place, but as circumstances rarely weighted in his favor he continued onwards.

  
He thought of all the gifts that had lined the doors, and all the names in the letters. He had an obligation to them now too. The fact that there were more out there that shared his overall discontent was a balm. The fact that there were others that would stand with him, startled him. His youth had been misspent. He never went out of his way to foster kinship with his fellows unless they were interested in getting trashed. And then there was the matter of his family. Family ceased to mean much once a vampire reached the age where they could travel out on their own, but Regis’ family had been, as the Humanist said, aristocratic, that meant that their loyalties laid with the Elder.

  
With the Emperor planning on making an appearance in Toussaint that would increase the likelihood of running into at the least his mother, who had disowned him after the Elder had declared him unfit for whelping. He had made light several times over the years of vampire families, and familial ties, saying that the children weren’t paid attention to; but he was speaking of his own experiences. He had been more or less raised by their maid servant, Orianna.

  
The Orianna he had known growing up had been a joy to be around. She would take him places, show him things. Give him access to all the best blood, even going so far as to sneak him into his father’s personal farm, and allowing him to draw (if only a little) from his father’s special breed half-elf, that he would brag about whenever anyone would give him a chance.

  
It was all a ruse though. She was a thrall to his family, and had only ever doted on him to keep herself out of fangs’ reach. When she bought her freedom and had left, then when he lost himself to the blood, she had been one of his fiercest detractors; regaling the others with how stupid and selfish he had been as a child. Smearing him and his family’s name through the mud any chance she could. He still felt the sting of her words even now. He had confronted her once, early on; it didn’t go well. So her kind treatment of him at her estate party over a year ago was surprising. Now he knew why though. She was trying to move the first pawn in a complicated game of chess between her and the Elder. She had wanted him to call on her for an audience. She had made it seem like she was the only choice. He didn’t, and he hadn’t seen her since.

  
That at least would put a smile on his face. He managed to avoid her game entirely, and in doing so had inadvertently created a situation where her pride and joy in Toussaint was destroyed. Maybe that’s the route he would take. He could easily disguise his probing around the enclave as searching for information about Orianna. Geralt and himself had reached a standstill on that front. They knew she had reached Dillingen and that she had confronted the Nilfgaardians, but they had dealt her a solid blow. She was running out of options and would be reaching the point of desperation soon.

  
She had to have reached out to someone,had she not?

  
Maybe he was hoping for too much.

  
Before long he found himself in front of the entrance. Much to his surprise the fisherman that had ferried Dettlaff and himself across the lake when Regis had brought the injured vampire back sat at the shoreline, with a line in hand. He noticed Regis the second he coalesced into his human form.

  
“Master Regis!”

  
“Hello there.” Regis smiled, and walked over to the fleder as he attempted to quickly reel in his line. The vampire looked happy, and he had several lake trout resting in the water.   
“Didn’t expect to see you back at all.” The fleder said, fighting with his line. “How is your friend faring?”

  
Regis winced, which caused the other vampire to flinch. “Sorry, tender subject.”

  
The fleder hung his head, pursing his lips.

  
“No no, his healing is just taking longer than I would like to.” Regis said honestly. “The surgeons did an absolutely stupendous job piecing him back together and getting the metal out. He is healing, he is getting more active by the day, but to see a dear friend so injured…”

  
“You needn’t say more.” The fleder finally had his line up and he stood. “We have lost many in my pack over the years to simple injury. It’s never simple to heal. And it hurts even more so when we care about the one injured.”

  
They sat in silence for a minute gazing at the lake.

  
“You must forgive my manners,” Regis scoffed at himself, shaking the mood off and approaching the other vampire. “I know you know my name, but my first time through I was acting like an arse and I never caught yours.”

  
“Ah! Well forgive me for not telling ya.” The fleder grinned and held out his clawed hand. “My name is Thomas, Tommy my friends call me. Thomas de Tarn-Shiftlet. I am a thrall for the Caragiale family. They have a debt to the Elder so I am on loan to him as ferryman.”

  
“Your family hails from near Flotsam, do they not?” Regis asked, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “The waterways of that place are hectic and full of terrors, or so I have heard.”

  
“Quite right, though the beasts never much bother me.” The fleder smiled. “Wouldn’t poke something too hard that could turn you into a meat pie. Had a few drowners try from time to time. I was one of the shipping guides for goods traveling the channels into, Ban Glean, and Ban Ard. Those mages would order some pretty odd things from time to time.”

  
“I’ll bet!” Regis smiled, and turned to look to the door to the cave. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have heard about a bruxa named Orianna, would you?”

  
The fleder frowned and spit into the water.

  
“Heard o’ her, yeah.” He growled. “Most us lessers have. Beacon of hope she was to a lot of us. Bought her freedom. Now she flaunts it and treats the rest of us like…”

  
“Like most of the higher vampires treat you?” Regis supplied, noting that the fleder winced. “Do not count me amongst that number, our first encounter aside, I tend to find that all creatures with a similar sentience level are owed respect and kindness. At least, unless they prove they do not deserve such. I have a single bruxa who is in my thrall and it’s actually quite reluctantly. I let her do as she pleases and she could leave at any point. But she insists she owes me a debt. She is a cunning one, young, brash, quite cheeky. I actually rescued her from Orianna’s servitude completely by accident. She hasn’t been far from myself or my healing friend since.”

  
“You did ‘er a service then.” The fleder blinked at Regis in surprise. “There have been quite a few bruxae who have escaped from her care, or bought their way to freedom that work at ‘Belles’ now. All of ‘em came back from Orianna with extreme addiction to blood. Not just any blood, but children’s blood. Belles has set up a program for them to recover, then usually they travel northwards to Vizima or Novigrad, or southwards to Nilfgaard and Ofir to offer their services there. Mistress Leah, the higher vampire whoowns the Queen’s house in Vizima has actually set up a secondary program there.”

  
“Now that’s a name I have not heard in a long time.” Regis said, smiling fondly. “Have you heard news from Mistress Leah?”

  
“Not from her, no.” The fleder said, smiling and looking over the lake. “But news comes from others, speaking of the goings of the north. I take it you know her?”

  
“I did for a time.” Regis smiled. “She helped me pick myself up after I had faltered for a time.”

  
“It’s strange isn’t it?” The fleder asked, looking up to Regis, his brows furrowed. “I myself am just over a century old, but even in my short time on this rock it seems to me like there is more cooperation happening in these past twenty years than at any point past the dark times amongst vampires. There has been a change, a shift. Master says it’s because the world is getting smaller.”

  
“I personally think it’s because wounds that have been infected and open for long, have started to be drained.” Regis sighed, again looking back to the entrance. “I am only just nearing four and a quarter centuries myself, and ever since I have been on this earth I have noticed a change. Our people are unhappy with their lot. They want to live, and find themselves once more. Hoping for the door to open again is a fool’s errand. With the human population increase we have been able to have more children. Something you lessers are not bound by, thank goodness. The children of the continent are discontent.”

  
The fleder regarded him cryptically for a moment before reaching into his bag.

  
“Take this, master Regis.” The fleder said, handing him a piece of paper. “Read it when you are alone. My master stopped by two weeks past. Said I was to give it to you. Said you would understand once you read it. To answer your question about Orianna, I know that you hunt her. There isn’t a one of us who hasn’t heard of the destruction of the Dillingen farm. There are others inside who may know more. I have been tasked with keeping her out of this place, she is no longer welcome within these walls.”

  
“And what of myself?” Regis asked, regarding the fleder. “When I was here last, I had full reign of the place. Does that still stand?”

  
The fleder grinned and walked over to the entrance.

  
“Find Amelia.” He nodded and opened the entrance for Regis. “She is performing a surgery today to repair a torn wing. She requested that if you were to turn up that she would escort you personally to wherever you need to go. Standing orders are still to allow you access to any place within the conclave you need to go. Elder Farccio has taken a long leave, his first in many years. He will not be back for at least a week, if not two. I think Amelia has some idea where to look for information.”

  
Regis sprung up the steps after the fleder, his heart suddenly a lot lighter than it had been when he started out.

  
“You have no idea how pleased I am that he is finally away from this place, if even for a moment.” Regis said, relief rippling through the bond so fiercely that Geralt nudged him. He sent elation and giddiness back.  
“As are we all.” The fleder nodded. “Please, you are our guest, don’t hesitate to use your status in whatever way you see fit. Someone inside will get you placed in a room.”

  
Regis nodded his thanks and stepped into the cave. The smell here was always overpowering, but right now? Right now it was tolerable. As he stepped from the entrance to the porthole that would take him to the front of the congress, where the Elder normally slept, he felt an almost childlike giddiness. When he stepped through the porthole he could hardly believe his eyes.

  
There were vampires walking to and fro, and several had congregated into groups on the steps of the pillars. The place was well lit, and seemed to beacting as a sort of market place with colorful fronts set up in front of the archway with the door that led to their world. The energy here, compared to the last time he had been in residence was so completely different and foreign that Regis found himself just looking around in wonder. There was a group of wizened femalefleders who were smoking pipes and watching a set of whelps that were insistent on nipping and playing with one another. A higher vampire was selling fruit and candied treats from one stall, and another was selling perfumes and aphrodisiacs toanother.

  
A large nosferatwas talking to a plumard who was chittering back at a mile a minute. Other stalls were selling goods, silks, rugs, hookah rigs from Ofir, costume jewelry. The placewas alive. Alive and thriving in a way Regis had never seen before. The cave was echoing the chatter, which was taking place in low registers as everyone that had gathered in this place had sensitive ears.

  
“Welcome to Hen Gaideth.” Regis startled, as a higher vampire with spectacles and a wiry build appeared before him. “Please state your name and the reason for your visit.”

  
“Never had to do that before?” Regis questioned, frowning.

  
“With the Elder away, we are to keep a tight record of who comes and goes from here.” The bispecled vampire said curtly, but not discourteously. “Hen Gaideth’s protection is paramount, and with the rogueOrianna on the loose still, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  
Regis nodded thoughtfully.

  
“My name is Emiel Regis RohellecTerzieff-Godefroy.” He said, still taken in by the activity around the entrance. “I am actually here to seek out information about Orianna and her movements within Toussaint.”

  
“Ah! Master Terzieff-Godefroy, I was informed that should you come I was to allow you through without issue.” The vampire nodded, jotting down his name and the reason for his visit nearly verbatim. He horribly mangled Regis’ middle name, but the information would be intact anyway.

  
“Speaking of Orianna, have you heard anything?” Regis asked, spying the other names on the list.

  
“Do you honestly think that anyone would speak frankly about a traitor to the cause to me?” The other vampire looked at Regis, his brows raised. “I am the door man, if anyone tells the truth when they walk in here it’s an actual wonder.”

  
“It was worth a try.” Regis shrugged, shifting his bag.

  
“Can I direct you to somewhere in specific?” The vampire asked, adjusting the glasses on his nose.

  
“I am going to need a room, I would rather enjoy having the rooms I was in the last time I was here. I would like to have a bath later.” Regis pondered, formulating a map to where he needed to go. “I also need to find Amelia, I was told she was looking for an audience with me.”

  
“Ah yes, a bath would be in order.” The man said wrinkling his nose. “I can smell the witcher on you.”

  
Regis turned and frowned at the man.

  
“Please refer to him as my mate if you would.” Regis bit sharply, his hackles up. “We are bonded, and I rather like his scent.”

  
If vampires had the ability to pop their eyes out of their skulls, the vampire in front of him would have won the contest.

  
“Truly?” He asked, all his prim and proper manor gone in the face of the information. “There had been rumors…”

  
“Well put them to rest.” Regis snorted. “They are not rumors, I have taken the witcher as a mate. His name is Geralt de Corvo Bianco, and as is custom I would have you refer to him by his name and not his working title. He is a part of the Terzieff-Godefroy house.”

  
“I will make a note sir,” The vampire acknowledged, jotting it down diligently. “Sorry for the rudeness, had I known…”

  
“I know what my reputation is.” Regis said, frowning. “At least they can put the rumors to rest, as he is most definitely not my pet. What is your name?”

  
“Werner sir, of house Keller.” The vampire said, swallowing nervously.

  
“Well, master Werner, I am in need of finding Amelia.” Regis bowed slightly as he turned and prepared to enter the fray. “You will excuse my abruptness, but I have much to do in the short time I am here.”

  
“Your rooms will be prepped for you in the interim.” The vampire motioned another higher vampire in armor over to him. “Please enjoy your visit, and if you need anything let me or the guards know.”  
Regis nodded and headed into the crowd. He had feared that he would have been looked at oddly, or treated silently when he arrived. But at the moment, other than a few curious looks here and there, no one seemed to even take note ofhis presence. It was as welcome as it was surprising, and he found himself walking into one of the cavernous offshoots.

  
The doors to the city were open, and the vampires of Hen Gaideth were fully content to go about their business. It was only once he was half way to the hospital that he remembered that the night previous had been a full moon. He smiled to himself. Those that were here likely had come in to celebrate, and with the Elder gone, the usual rules of being silent and docile were out the window. Regis couldn’t remember a time he and his family had visited this place when the Elder was not in residence.

  
He felt gravity twisting, and shifted his steps so he could flow with it as it twisted through the cave, and came out to another large open area. Another market had been set up here, and there were buildings with taverns, and homes carved into the rockface. One of the buildings had suffered a fracture, likely from the earthquake that had happened, and was currently being tended to by a crew of workers. Regis marveled at the scene and soon found himself in front of the modest hospital. A group of higher vampires had gathered and were looking at a board that had lists posted. Regis felt his stomach turn for a moment as he looked at the familiar board, and mentally cursed it.

  
It was the breeding board.

  
Hopeful mates were looking for their names on the lists. One couple had obviously gotten the go-ahead as they were smiling and crying to themselves silently. Still others were silently hoping, and another few had seen their names were not on the list and had walked away with sullen faces. A few armored guards stood stoically and kept and eye on the couples and others that approached the hospital. Regis sighed and stepped up to the entrance,pushing the heavy wooden doors inwards.

  
The hospitals entry room was rather empty. Only two vampires stood waiting, one was a young ekimmara who was entangled in a silver necklace of all things, and was suffering because of it. The other, obviously its parent, was chittering angrily at the whelp. Regis felt himself smiling as he approached a desk where a bruxa sat filling out paperwork.

  
“I need to speak to Amelia.” Regis stated, casting a glance down to the files the vampire was currently writing furiously on.

  
“Amelia is currently performingsurgery, can I ask who is seeking her?” The bruxa looked up, and gave Regis a hard sniff.

  
“Tell her Emiel is here.” Regis said simply. “I can wait.”

  
The bruxa placed her quill in its holder and shot off in a gust of mist into the hospital proper.

  
Regis sat down at one of the stools that had been scattered throughout the room and adjusted his bag. His eyes cast to the small ekimmara whelp who was wrapped in the silver necklace. He was sniveling miserably. The mother of the poor fellow had obviously attempted to get the offending chain off her offspring. Her hands were burned. The little fellow looked miserable. Regis bit his lip for a moment.

  
“I am guessing the doctor is busy at the moment?” Regis asked, casting a look to the whelp’s mother who turned and chittered at him before dropping into common.

  
“We have been waiting for a time.” The ekimmara said, looking down to her whelp, her tongue darting out and wetting her blood groove.

  
“I am a barber surgeon, I can take a look at your whelp and see if I can’t fix him up really quick.” Regis said, shifting his bag over his head and fishing through it to find his cutters.

  
“That would be of great appreciation, higher one.” The ekimmara pushed her whelp towards Regis. Regis scented the small one as it approached. It was a boy, and had been trapped in the silver for several hours. It had burned into his skin in places and his flesh was red and welted where it wasn’t covered by fur. Regis tutted as the small one approached.

  
“How on earth did you get trapped in a silver necklace, little one?” The whelp looked from Regis to his mother and started chittering and churring in quick succession.

  
“He found woman.” The mother shuffled over to Regis, her beard swaying with the movements. “She drop necklace, he watch necklace. Many days passed. He grabbed and put on. Didn’t know silver. Now entangled and hurt. Lesson learned, but sick. I found on road, and rushed here. Burned me too. Can’t stand him in pain.”

  
“May I?” Regis asked, reaching out for the whelp. The female ekimmara scented him and her tongue ran along her groove once more. Her ears twitched and she snorted.

  
“Please do, only higher ones can touch, need help.” Regis reached out, and in a quick movement snapped the clasp of the chain with his sheers. Before the whelp even had a chance to call out, Regis extracted the necklace from around the small thing, unwinding it and pulling it from his flesh in places. The ears on the young one laid back and he let off a keening cry. It was pitiful and the young creature instantly sought out its mothers waiting arms.

  
The female ekimmara let off an answering coo and began to lick at the wounds. They began to heal and close instantly and the little one let off a chuffing sniffle as he buried his face into his mother’s beard.   
“Here.” Regis took out a tincture. The female ekimmara turned and took it gingerly from his hands. “You and him should take one small sip a piece from this, it’s an antihistamine. It will ease the rash and stop the reaction from the silver in both of you. It’s of my own design, I have a friend who is a higher vampire and is allergic to silver. He occasionally gets himself into it, so I always have a bit on hand, just in case.”

  
“You are kind.” The female ekimmara cooed as the young one clambered onto her back and nuzzled against her neck. “What do we owe?”

  
“Think nothing of it.” Regis scoffed, smiling and packing up his tools. “I hate to see children in pain.”

  
The ekimmara snorted and took a ring out from the leather pouch around her mid section.

  
“Take this, master?”

  
“Emiel.” Regis said, smiling as the little vampire chirped happily and settled into his mother’s back fluff, almost becoming indiscernible from the rest of her.

  
“I will remember Emiel, thank you.” She dropped the ring into his hand and turned towards the door. The little vampire on her back was chirping happily, his ears turning every which way, and the mother was answering back in rumbles and coos. Regis felt himself smiling wistfully at the sight. It had been so long since he had been amongst kin, and the last time he truly was he’d been in no state to enjoy it. He couldn’t even remember a time where he actually appreciated the sights he was seeing and the interactions he was witnessing. It stuck him again how different this place felt without the Elder around.

  
“That was an amazing kindness you provided to them.” Regis actually jumped straight up and shifted into his vampiric form at the voice before he realized it. When he got his wits about him, he looked at the vampire before him.

  
“Amelia?” Regis asked, quickly shifting back to his human form. “Goodness gracious, I didn’t hear you coming.”

  
“As was designed.” The vampiress with the russet umber skin and cat like eyes had changed her hair. When Regis had seen her last it was pulled back into a tie and left unruly in the back. Now though it was braided in an intricate style that wove around her head like water. Cascading from the back were hundreds of tiny braids, each made with a precision that made the barber part of Regis jealous. Her honey brown eyes crinkled in a smile.

  
“You look stunning, my lady.” Regis said, bowing slightly.

  
“What brings you here,Emiel?” The vampiress asked, grabbing his arm and leading him towards the door of the hospital.

  
“Truth be told, I am looking for information on a bruxa named Orianna.” Regis said, figuring that cutting to the chase was the best course of action. “I have been tasked by the Elder with apprehending her, and I am at a standstill in my investigation. I came back here to try to see if I could find anything about her whereabouts.”

  
“Ah yes.” The vampiress said, hissing slightly. “I have news on that front actually, but let’s get to a place that is a little more secluded. Tensions are high and the walls as they say, have ears.”

  
“I must say I am absolutely stunned at this place at the moment.” Regis murmured, as they passed into the main square and headed for another tunnel. “I have never seen it so lively, nor so at peace.”

  
“A shame you haven’t visited more often then.” Amelia smiled a brilliant smile. “You should have seen this place yesterday. The moon celebration was spectacular. The wine flowed, and spirits were high. It was a wonderful sight.”

  
“I hope I have the opportunity to bring my mate here during one of those celebrations.” Regis smiled. “I am sure he would like it very much.”

  
“Dettlaff?” The vampiress asked, looking at Regis curiously.

  
“Oh goodness, no!” Regis scoffed slightly. “Dettlaff is my blood brother, and so we shall remain for the rest of our days. No, Geralt and I solidified our relationship a few weeks past. We are bonded.”

  
“The witcher?” Her eyes got wide.

  
“Yes, and please, call him by his name.” Regis said simply, trying to not be offended. “It has been a long time in coming, and it was something we worked hard towards.”

  
“Forgive my surprise, but a witcher? Truly?” She asked earnestly, as they passed into the tunnel and the shifting gravity caught them in its pull once more. “Forgive my forwardness but it’s stable? The question comes from the fact that sometimes human bonds can be shaky and have unintended side effects.”

  
“Very stable.” Regis nodded, sending a pulse of love through the bond. Geralt pulsed back love, with a touch of frustration. Regis frowned then he laughed. Geralt was stuck in line at the Camerlengo. He smiled fondly as the vampiress watched him.

  
“So I see.” She said, smiling just enough that her fangs popped out.

  
“He fulfilled a contract on some bandits that took over Tesham Mutna.” Regis felt the vampiress stiffen under him slightly, but she didn’t miss a step. “With the Emperor of Nilfgaard on his way the duchy is paying a premium for eradication of unwanted elements.”

  
“I didn’t know that a witcher would hunt their own?” Amelia questioned, looking at Regis and furrowing her brow. “And Tesham Mutna? What were humans doing there? I thought we had wards up?”

  
“The wards are several hundred years old, and very likely decayed.” Regis said. “We actually thought the same thing. And yes, Geralt will hunt humans as well. Just because something is human doesn’t mean it can’t be a monster. That’s why he carries two swords, silver for monsters, and steel for those monsters that walk in human skins.”

  
“That is interesting.” She mused, looking into the distance as they approached another much less crowded area. “We are going to my flat, in case you were wondering.”

  
Regis smiled.

  
Within short order they had arrived at her flat. It was an unassuming entrance built into the rock face. Much like all the dwellings in Hen Gaideth, its outside was simple, and there were no windows. However she had planted a small garden in front of her house, filled to the brim with the glowing flowers and mushrooms that had carried over with them after the conjunction. When they stepped through the threshold Regis cast a bubble around them.

  
“Now my dear, let us sit and chat, for I have a feeling you have much you wish to speak with me about.” Regis said, as she led him to a chair at a table that was filled to the brim with various fruits.

  
She got him settled, her look pensive as she went over to the countertop and got a flask. Regis’ nostrils flared when he smelled it. It was wine mulled with blood. Human blood. She poured herself a glass, and poured Regis a glass, her expression distant. She walked over to him and handed him the glass; he looked down at it tentatively.

  
“Oh good gracious, I forgot you do not partake!” She said flustered. “Here…”

  
“Oh no, this is fine.” Regis shook his head and took a tentative sip. Her eyes widened. The wine was good, very good. And the blood gave it a mellow edge Regis wasn’t anticipating. He didn’t feel like retching either. The blood was from a robust young man, and wasn’t acquired under duress. There was no poison present, no stress souring the taste.

  
“It’s sourced from my family’s farm in Bukavu in Zangvebar.” She said quickly. “Free range of course, the humans there have blood letting ceremonies that we didn’t invent. My father just takes advantage of it.”

  
“Your father is a smart man.” Regis took another sip, savoring the taste this time. “It shows in his brewing. Great care went into this, and I appreciate it especially since I am mated to a vintner.”

  
She let off a sigh and relaxed slightly, taking a sip of her wine. Regis reached over, plucked an orange from the table and began to peal it.

  
“First things first.” The honey brown eyed vampire with the cascade of braids said. looking at Regis. “Luptătorul, I stand with you. As does my family and all those in our care.”

  
Regis only paused a second before he resumed pealing the orange. He focused on his task and felt her scent change as she became nervous.

  
“You must know by now that there are several of us located throughout here, as well as throughout the Gharasham tribal lands, that stand with you,Emiel.” She started. “I saw what happened with the Elder.”  
“Is that so?” Regis questioned, keeping his focus on the orange so his hands wouldn’t start to shake.

  
“What he did to you was… beyond horrible.” She said empathetically, taking another sip of wine. “I had actually ran to fetch you, as your friend was calling out for you the second we got his mouth freed. We didn’t wait for the metallurgist to free his lungs and mouth. He said you had cut him off. I couldn’t believe my eyes. You fought, and you fought so hard. You beat him, beat the Elder at his own game. I will not state to you how many times I have had to patch those up who have gained his ire. But you…”

  
“I did not win.” Regis spat, cutting her off, his voice hollow.

  
“But you did, don’t you see?” She chided, placing her hand on his knee. He flinched and she withdrew.

  
“Winning would imply that I had gained something over him.” Regis sighed, looking up into her honey brown eyes. “What happened afterwards, was anything but a victory.”

  
“What happened after?” She asked, leaning forward. “I had to patch you up on the spot, get you back together as he flew into a rage. I couldn’t follow where he dragged you off to.”

  
“Do I still have access to every part of Hen Gaideth?” Regis asked, his voice soft.

  
“Yes.” She grinned. “You are permitted to go anywhere in your search for information, including the Elder’s estate.”

  
Regis blinked and sat up straighter.

  
“Truly?” Regis asked, finally disposing of the peal and popping a piece of the fruit into his mouth.

  
“Truly, his instructions were very explicit.” She licked at her fangs. “He said to the guard, and I quote, ‘He is to have access to anything, everything! You will do everything that he says, if he asks for you to shit in a cup and eat it you will do it. If he says it has to do with Orianna you will do it with a smile, I want that cunt’s head on a platter. If he wants to inspect my larder, if it’s to find that wench and he thinks there is something there to help, you let him in!’”

  
Regis blinked.

  
“Well then, inspect his larder I shall.” Regis said, smiling slightly.

  
Regis felt a pang of fear settle deep inside him. It was going to be a long few days, he was sure of it.

 


	42. Erudition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regis continues his journey in Hen Gaideth. He learns more then he ever wanted to know.
> 
> "This book, Regis decided, was a medical text, specifically dealing with teeth. There were illustrations of vampires’ faces, showing detailed and beautiful renderings of the organs on the insides of their noses and mouths. Regis realized by the pallor of the vampires in the illustrations that they were dead; these were dissections, carried out with the same aplomb that the humans did with their own.
> 
> There were pages of medical treatments. Extractions of impacted poison glands. Surgery to remove misplaced bone spurs that would grow into the sinuses and mouth if a vampire transformed, causing discomfort, and that in some cases were fatal if the illustrations were to be believed. Regis was shaking by the time he set the book down. There was life here, the visions of the life before. A life that was lost when the Conjunction hit, and then a life further taken by… by what? How many of the ones that had crossed over had known of these things, and they had just… let the Elder subjugate them?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***********
> 
> HEY YOUS GUYS.... i finally have a beta!!!  
>  ****
> 
> Embeer2004!!!! Woo!!!!  
>  Now onto the fun stuff
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **************  
> 
> 
> **Warnings this chapter**
> 
> mentions of Regis' previous torture  
> Mentions of parental murder  
> detailed mentions of child abuse/grooming  
> mentions of grooming in general
> 
> ****************

The first place he took her after they ate, and after Regis had caught her up on his and Geralt’s misadventures, was the cell where he had been kept for two months, forced to wallow in human blood. Amelia gasped as she inspected the place. The vampires guarding it turned a blind eye and voiced their displeasure at having something so foul within the walls of Hen Gaideth. When Regis told her the number of humans that had died to be able to fill the room she nearly cried. The echoes of Khagmar were still fresh in her mind, as she had been a teenager when he’d been brought to Tesham Mutna. She couldn’t believe that they had forced Regis, a blood-abstaining vampire, who had broken no laws other than to shut himself off from the Elder, into a place of torture that was so grotesque.

Regis felt oddly detached as he viewed the room. It was smaller than his mind had made it out to be. He guessed it was just from his stay and the trauma he had endured, but the place had seemed like an endless lake filled to the brim with blood. When Amelia and he left, Regis felt oddly at peace; he had revisited the place and it held no true sway over him. It was a room, a room where horrible things had happened, but he didn’t fear the room, only the person behind his torture. It was a small comfort to know he wouldn’t randomly fall apart if he found himself in there once more. Something he direly hoped wouldn’t happen.

Half way to the Elder’s estate Geralt let him know that he was with Dettlaff, and that he was going to go ahead and feed him. Regis braced himself against the onslaught of feelings as best as he could, but still called out in pleasure and collapsed to the ground when the feeling flooded from both ends of his bonds. The ordeal had surprised Amelia, who then peppered him with questions, as she only had a pack bond with those of her family and extended family in Zangvebar. She told him that she just never had any sort of drive to seek out a mate, or to seek carnal pleasures. Sometimes she would happenstance into them, but they weren’t a driving force of the dark skinned vampire. An option, yes, but not one she actively sought out. Regis was so distracted that he didn’t even realize what Geralt had done, what he was doing to the other vampire.

When they arrived at the Elder’s estate, Regis felt a shudder pass through his body. Now it became real. The guards of the place were in the ceremonial Hen Gaideth armor. When Regis told them what he was there to look for, they calmly opened the place to him and left him to his own devices. Apparently the Elder had given Regis permission to enter his estate, but not the guards themselves. He cast the bubble the second they set foot in the opulent dwelling.

“So, where should we start?” Amelia asked, looking at the grand entrance room, that more resembled the palace at Vizima than a dwelling for a single creature.

“I suppose first we should take a tour? Figure out where things are, so that way we don’t spend time aimlessly wandering any more than absolutely necessary. We are looking for a place where he keeps his personal records. Anything that could give us a hint to where Orianna has been, and any interactions he has kept on file about her. A journal maybe? Or…”

“He is long lived, and is known for keeping records from even before the Conjunction.” She said looking up the staircase. “He wants to have a history for himself, written by the one person that can’t contradict him. Chances are it’s in a hidden place. I will start upstairs, call you if I find anything.”

Regis and her split off with Regis following his nose, scenting the trails that the Elder had left throughout the estate. Geralt’s witchering was rubbing off on him; he kept his eyes on clues throughout the estate, memos that were left on tables, paintings that looked like they had been moved. Places where the dust was disturbed. He was very pattern oriented, and the trails where the scent was thickest always led to places that were permeated with his scent. The place was also thick with another scent. Human blood. It filled nearly every corner of the place. In spots he could even see the dried leftovers where his maids had only made a half hearted effort to clean up. Regis had been looking around the rooms for about an hour when Amelia joined him. Apparently upstairs were the sleeping quarters and there was nothing of interest up there, other than a library filled to the brim with books of fiction. The library had been abandoned for quite some time as the books were thick with dust and the smell of decay. The Elder hadn’t even been in the room long enough for him to leave a lingering scent, and the candles there were unlit and old.

Downstairs was a completely different matter. There were ballrooms, meeting rooms, well-used libraries, guest rooms and a bathing chamber that seemed to belong to Emhyr’s palace in Nilfgaard. The place was large enough that Regis and Amelia had to double back a few times, and then Regis resorted to drawing out a map so they didn’t wind up stepping through doorways back into places they had already visited.

Finally after nearly two hours of aimless wandering they came to a door that was set away from the main house and led to a garden. Within the garden there was another door set away on a narrow path. The door was made of the same metal as the bars of Regis’ cage, and the cages at Tesham Mutna; it was warded and locked. As there was no one around, Regis and Amelia spent the next hour, figuring out the wards on the door with the scroll that Regis kept on his person, and slowly detangled the traps that were set around it. In the middle of them doing so Geralt had contacted Regis and informed him he was on his way home. Regis was jealous that Geralt got to go home and rest in their estate, and said as much though the bond. Geralt laughed, but nudged him sadly. Apparently the talk with Dettlaff had been fruitful and left the witcher with enough new information to fill his head with brooding thoughts.

When at last the wards were broken, and Regis had figured out enough to reset them and get them back off again with ease, they stepped into the room.

This was the one place in the whole of the estate that actually looked used and lived in.

“Seems like someone has been a busy beaver.” Amelia said, looking to the stacks of books that were piled high behind the Elder’s desk. “Regis, as much as I would like to stay, I have a shift at the hospital tomorrow and I would like to get some rest. Last night was hell on wheels, full moons always are.”

Regis nodded and gave the vampiress a hug.

“Thank you, my dear. You have been extremely helpful.” Regis said, pulling away and sighing as he looked at the room and the sheer vastness of the things inside it.

“Remember, we stand with you.” She said, her honey brown eyes sharp as glass. “You have but to ask.”

Regis nodded and felt a cold shiver crawl up his spine.

He was suddenly alone, in this large empty place that was full of the smell of lives lost. He had some vague memories of being here before, before the blood drunkenness, maybe when he was a child. He looked around the room and suddenly felt overwhelmed.

“Right then, no time to waste.” Regis encouraged himself, dropping his bag at the door.

He didn’t know what he was looking for in all actuality. He had gone in woefully unprepared.

“What would Geralt do?” Regis pondered, looking down and scrutinizing the room. He knew what Geralt would do actually. Immediately start mumbling to himself. He started smiling as he studied the floor.

“There are paths in the dust, no one has bothered to clean this place in a long time.” Regis said, looking at the floor. His first thought was to find a lamp. Right where he stood now was lit only by a stream of light coming from some of the glowing plants the Elder kept in this room that were native to their home planet. Their soft glow was sufficient to travel by but would be hell for reading. Regis looked around and then followed his nose to a switch in the wall; when he flipped it he could smell gas immediately, and he pressed the button next to the switch. A spark went up and the gas lamps in the room lit the place up with enough intensity that Regis actually had to blink his eyes to allow them to adjust.

Hen Gaideth was dark, it was a cave, and the only source of light were torches, lamps, and the glowing plant and fungal life. Vampires were nocturnal by nature, the darkness suited them, but even vampires needed light to read and write by. The light did little to ease the stuffiness of this place, but now Regis could see clearly what he had seen in the dimness; there were trails amongst the thick dust. He picked up the first trail and headed behind the desk to a set of shelves that created a small library behind it.

He looked at the floor and found that the further back the shelves went, the less frequently they were visited. To ease his own mind he went to the shelves furthest to the back. He felt the hairs on his arms stand up as he picked up a volume that was labeled in a language he had never seen before. When he opened it he was surprised to see illustrations. The book with the dead language looked nothing like anything he had ever seen before, and yet, the images were wholly familiar. In it were charts, and illustrations of plants, and rocks, and images of what could only be vampires. It didn’t look like a story. He leafed through it and let out a small gasp; it was an almanac. He couldn’t read anything within it, but he started to see the patterns. Charts, moon phases, seeds, and what they yielded. Then there was a bestiary of sorts, a farmer’s almanac. Regis set the book down, biting his lip.

He picked up another on a different shelf; it was a book on a single piece of technology. It was an engine, and the plans to build said engine. The technology within the book was so much further along than anything Regis had ever seen, and though he couldn’t read it, he immediately knew just from the illustrations of fields that this was something used to separate… something. It looked like you would put whatever the plant was that was growing into the machine, and out would come twine. There was a brief illustration of how it was powered as well. A liquid of some sort.

Regis set down that book and took a deep breath. He had been right. The Elder was sitting on information that no other knew about. He scaled down the shelf and picked up another book. Regis balked. The age of these books had to be in the thousands of years, but what he saw inside of them made him pause; there were illustrations of vampires, and they looked nearly wholly human, just like the guises they took to blend in. This book, Regis decided, was a medical text, specifically dealing with teeth. There were illustrations of vampires’ faces, showing detailed and beautiful renderings of the organs on the insides of their noses and mouths. Regis realized by the pallor of the vampires in the illustrations that they were dead; these were dissections, carried out with the same aplomb that the humans did with their own.

There were pages of medical treatments. Extractions of impacted poison glands. Surgery to remove misplaced bone spurs that would grow into the sinuses and mouth if a vampire transformed, causing discomfort, and that in some cases were fatal if the illustrations were to be believed. Regis was shaking by the time he set the book down. There was life here, the visions of the life before. A life that was lost when the Conjunction hit, and then a life further taken by… by what? How many of the ones that had crossed over had known of these things, and they had just… let the Elder subjugate them?

Regis felt himself starting to boil internally. What did the Elder have to gain by throwing the vampires back thousands of years? Regis hissed to himself and withdrew from the shelf, moving up to another set of shelves; it was more of the same, but more organized. Some of the books were full to the brim of nothing but words Regis couldn’t translate. He shifted to another set of shelves once again; more of the same, but in one of them, a text about excavating, there were notes written in the margins. Regis looked at the book quickly. He notes were in common vampiric, interspersed here and there with Elder Speech. Regis stopped what he was doing and quickly stashed the text in his bag before continuing his search once again.

He was in there for what felt like hours before he finally found something that was at least not an informational book, or a work of fiction, and was written in common vampiric: tribal memoirs. Regis was intrigued, but he wasn’t after the past, he needed to find information, any information about what was going on now. His frustration was mounting, but finally he hit pay dirt when he found a bound journal written by the Elder himself. It was shelved, and it and several more books held the same styling with the self important title of “The records of Farccio, Elder of the Gharasham.” Regis flipped through it quickly; it was pre-Conjunction, and it was Volume One.

Regis quickly started jotting down notes in his notebook about every volume he found. The first were filled to the brim with self stoking imagery and delusion-filled ranting. Some point before the Conjunction however, the Elder began actually journaling; talking about his woes and struggles. Regis was four volumes in when his eyes stopped dead on the page he was skimming: Khagmar. Regis cursed himself as he fretted for a moment. He didn’t want to get sucked into reading every little piece of the journals, and he knew he could easily find himself in that very situation. He fretted for a moment, then finally he gave in and started to read a little.

“I met the Elder from the R’shelack tribe today. Khagmar, strange vampire, hailing from the western tribes. His tribe holds some unusual customs, something that warrants study. I only met him for a moment, he smiled, showing his teeth and his wings. A finer specimen of our spices you would be hard pressed to find, besides myself of course. I find myself drawn to him, though I am instantly repulsed due to his condition. Something that would be impossible to see around. It’s unfortunate that he was born…”

Regis slammed the book shut and winced. He felt himself getting drawn into it. He sighed and flipped back through it. He caught mentions of Khagmar and R’chelack several more times, but in the passing glances it was all just stuff and nonsense. Regis began to expedite his search, flipping through several more volumes. He knew instantly when they had reached the post-Conjunction volumes. The care with which the books had been bound was lost… but regained, and the books had been bound with elven techniques. Khagmar’s name began to appear more and more now, and soon, whole volumes had gone missing. Regis began to check the dates. Finally, ten volumes had gone missing. All of them in the time period where Khagmar was captured and imprisoned. Regis balked.

He quickly grabbed the volume before the disappearances and flipped to the end.

“He has spurned me for the last time. When we came to this wretched rock he blamed me, me and only me for bringing him here. He has spent the last seven hundred years doing nothing to get us back. Seven hundred years of pining for him, wanting him, and never having him. They will rue the day they crossed me and fled to him. Khagmar…” (There was a bunch of angry scribbling) “They have to know, they will know, and then, when they do, heaven help him. The name Khagmar will be remembered in infamy.”

Regis set the book down, his gut roiling with nausea. He picked up the next volume.

“Let it be known that the vampire Khagmar is no more. He is but a shell of his former person, spit upon. His heinous crimes against humanity and elves have brought their eyes to us. We must go to ground, be hidden. Khagmar wrought this, he forced my hand. He has been banished and now seeks shelter with the Tdet. We shall not allow it and a messenger has been sent to notify them of his presence.”

Regis flipped through the rest of the pages. More mentions of Khagmar and his bloodthirstiness. Funny how before this point there was nothing. Just pining, and hope, and the ravings of an unstable being. Regis was exhausted; time held no meaning here. There were several more missing volumes, and then he picked up another one, some five hundred years or so old.

“I know he had a hand in it. There is no way that this is not at least partially his work. There are new creatures crawling about. Human wizards with the ability to stave us off, and a new cast, a new species that the locals are calling a witcher. With the elves finally having been pushed out, and the human farms thriving, it was only a matter of time before something came and noticed something was wrong. One of these witchers was dispatched by a nosferat, and brought back here for inspection. He was young, for a human; just out of his teething years, but he is not human. His eyes, are unlike any humans I have ever seen; yellow. His blood was foul, tainted with a poison. A poison that directly effects us in such a way that there is no possible way that ‘he’ did not have a hand in this. This warrants further investigation.”

Regis set down the volume, and another two were missing. The one he picked up was slated for around the time he was born.

“The witchers have become a pest. They come in here in such numbers that all of our thralls are in fear for their lives. They have figured out how to kill them. Figured out that some of us have a horrible allergy to silver, and all of the lesser cast can be rend fatally by silver blades. The knowledge that there is an effective defense against us has emboldened the humans, if only somewhat. They are an annoyance, one that shall be dealt with eventually. It still has the smell of ‘him’ all over it. Monster hunters? What next…”

Regis flipped through it further till he saw his own name. He frowned and his throat instantly felt tight. He wanted to reach out for Geralt, but the witcher was sound asleep. The words on the page bit into him.

“The Terzieff-Godefroy family has been doing me many favors as of late. Their political influence of the lesser vampires is on par to rival the van der Eretein’s. They hold a good amount of Toussaint in their holdings, and their farms have produced much. However with the abandoning of controlled farms, and the switch over to truly free range has put them at a disadvantage. I have partaken of Emiel and his wife Ceasia and find them more than pleasing; a pity they are mated. A combination of them however, a combination would be extraordinary. They have come to me wanting a child, and I have agreed. It is of little importance that their usefulness will be extenuated once the child is mine. Pity though, they are very thorough lovers.”

Regis felt ill. He was lucky he had not eaten in several hours, or whatever was in his stomach would have come up. He remembered being brought here as a child…

“Damn them to hell. Damned them all! I have lost track of time! I woke only to find that the child I had been promised, and the family that held such appeal, is a deadbeat and drunkard! He has all of seventeen winters on him and already he has festooned himself with those of lower station. Named him for his father too… another fuck-up named Emiel. Fuck it all. And the van der Ereteins? The ones who I held in high regard? They birthed out of turn! Not only did they do so, but Detrick has killed to protect his whelp! I sleep for a decade and a half and it all goes to shit. Detrick is an anathema and I have placed a contract on his life, and his mate’s. Damn them all. The whelp? Well we shall see… there may be a silver lining to this whole situation…”

With dread Regis flipped forward once again, his hands shaking. He sat down at the desk and held the volume in his hands.

“He is better than I could have hoped. With his parents out of the way he is mine, and he is beautiful. Dettlaff. I have never seen eyes like his before, crystal and blue, so clear they look as if the moon kissed them. I have tasted him. Tasted all of him, and a finer gift I could not have been given. So young, so beautiful under my arms. Ah, the decadence. HE shall be trained, and he shall be perfect!”

A sob escaped Regis and he closed the volume; he didn’t need this now. Now, when both of the people that were bonded to him were resting. Now, when he was truly and utterly alone, and in a place with no true friends. Dettlaff. He hadn’t known. Suddenly a lot more made sense of the other vampire; his calm surface and his rancorous moods, even his obsession to save those that needed it the most. Dettlaff had needed saving at one point. He had needed saving, and none had come.

Gods… if he had known? Regis winced as he cleared the tears from his eyes. Even if he had known – he’d been well on his path to being a drunkard; he wouldn’t have cared one lick about any vampire that wasn’t offering him blood. The realization hurt more than he had intended it to.

He set the volume back in its place and flipped through several more, pointedly ignoring the frequency of Dettlaff’s name in the next few volumes. Then there was a missing volume and all talk of Dettlaff stopped dead, picking up with Regis once again. Mention was made of him finding a mate, and the Elder making a point to never see him breed. Then mentions were made that Regis’ mate would be given her own lands, and freedom to have a child should she choose if she were to break the bond with Emiel. Regis sighed. He wanted to say that he felt angry, but at this point, it just was par for the course.

“This is getting me nowhere.” Regis sighed to himself. He leafed through the other volumes and finally felt himself lift a little; he found mention of Orianna.

“I have begun a romp with an excellent example of the lesser of our species, one Orianna. I had not known who she served when I started, but now that I do know I think jotting it down will be of service to me later. She served at the Terzieff-Godefroy house for centuries. She broke off from them when their son decided it would be a good idea to become a drunkard. She bought her freedom outright in blood, which is something not many achieve, and she was given status because of it. Unfortunately she was sheltered in her time serving in the house, and she came out of it with ideas to start her own farm. Farming of humans has become an illegal trade amongst our kind with the advent of witchers. We need not be bringing attention to ourselves. However, she seems to have a mind that she can still do it, and do it well enough that no one will be the wiser.”

“The others, they have no want to participate, and so she sought me out. A bruxa? A powerful one to boot. She went so far as to challenge me when I told her she was chasing a fool’s errand. She didn’t stand a chance of course, but I couldn’t just let someone with this kind of potential go. All she has asked of me is that I lend her my ear from time to time; something I can agree to as I find her presence pleasing. She tells me she will have a plan within the next few years to get her farm idea off the ground, and it shall be unlike any other that we have ever seen. I look forward to hearing about it.”

Regis flipped through the volume and there was no more mention of her. Two more volumes later and he found mention both of himself and of Orianna.

“Good things come in threes if the human adage is to be believed. At first I was unreasonably angry, Emiel junior, the drunkard, had managed to come under my radar once more. I had let him be, as he was dead-set on making a mess of everything he touched. But it seems my willingness to leave him alone has inadvertently allowed him to withdraw from my influence. I had not realized it was possible to sever a tribal bond so thoroughly. I cannot sense him unless he wills it. As such, when reports began to come in of Emiel and some of his other miscreants getting bolder, and flying around drunk and potentially causing an issue for vampire kind as a whole, you can imagine my ire. That fool however, did me a favor. While flying drunk one night he was captured. Chopped into tiny pieces, and put to ground. The amusement over this has been endless. I have made it my personal mission to make sure all of his friends know where he is, so they can harass him. It’s the little things sometimes.”

“The second thing is Orianna. I had written her off a while ago as someone who had great ideas, but lacked the will to go through with them. Seems as though the bruxa has been scheming this whole time, and has set herself up very soundly as an aristocrat here in Toussaint. She came to me with a deeds in hand. A deed to some land, in which she plans on building an estate, and a deed to another plot of land not too far from Beauclair, in which she plans on building her farm. A farm, disguised as an orphanage!”

“Humans, for all their ability to breed, are very difficult to keep alive. They are soft, and can be felled by physical means by accident; they also are constantly on the run from diseases, plagues, defects. As such, a human will often times breed, get killed, and leave their child behind. The other humans, it turns out, have a soft spot for the children of those left behind, but only to the point where they would see them sheltered, clothed, and put to work. The prospect of young blood to source whenever I wish, has driven me to give my blessing. The other potential usage for an orphanage is something I had forgotten about. Something I will have to slowly groom her into. She will learn of its advantages though, I am sure of it.”

“The third thing is something I am hesitant to even write about. Seems as though, our old ‘friend’ has made a new appearance. I thought his sphere of influence died years ago, however, I have found he is in the north, though doing what is beyond me as those that know him are keeping his location a secret. I am content right now to settle back and watch, however the fact that he still lives is oddly soothing. I shall keep an eye out for news on our old friend.”

Regis began to take a look in earnest now at the volumes. Reading as quickly as he could.

Orianna had set up La Compassion under a different name first. Then when she had to change identities, she burned it down to the ground, and started over, with La Compassion being her final vision of the place. She had begun to bottle the blood of those that she could, selling it to her brethren. The children she would choose to live there often times were of noble or privileged birth. She would orchestrate the murders of many men to get the blood she wanted. Then, when the blood began to turn sour with age, she would send the children on to school, or to wed. She arranged marriages for her children, and bred them together with others, creating a beautiful and finely sourced blood bank. Regis recognized the names of several nobles who had gotten their start at her orphanage.

Past that point it seemed as though not all was well between the Elder and Orianna. The Elder had let it slip what he had wanted to do, and Orianna had been fiercely against it, to the point where she had wielded it above the Elder’s head like a sword ready to strike. She had created more orphanages, and her network had grown, her influence amongst humans and vampires alike putting the Elder into a position to be manipulated. He didn’t like that, not one bit.

Then came the mention of the Humanist. The Elder couldn’t believe that there was a vampire in the world who was taken so fiercely with the humans.

“I should have killed him when I had the chance. Time and time again I let that little shit slip through my fingers, only to have him make more of a mess of things than I had started with. I would have been fine if it was just the drinking. I could have had him imprisoned in Tesham Mutna, if my tribunal hadn’t decommissioned the place after Khagmar was released; superstitious idiots the lot of them. Now, Emiel has apparently been ‘reborn’, and who was he reborn to? The damned Humanist. The one vampire who seemed to love humans less than me, who spent nearly a century in the ground attempting slow suicide, is now going to school to study humans of all things. And under the influence of this mysterious Humanist; also a vampire I am told, though those that know him do not speak, and those that speak of him only hear from rumor. Two vampires together, with the ability to rebuff my influence. It’s beginning to be a nightmare.”

“There are rumors now that my influence is waning. Small ones, small rumblings. But the fact that I have heard of them just means that there is more bubbling beneath the surface. The time of the Conjunction grows near, the door to our world has cracked. All I have to do is wait it out. As soon as we are back on the home world, I will take what is mine. I do not trust those around me to inform me when the door begins to truly open, I must position myself so I know the instant it begins.”

Regis pushed the volume closed. It was the last one on hand. He looked over to the shelf, then looked down to the desk. One of the drawers was askew, hastily pushed into the desk, and something was trapped just over its lip. He frowned and slid the drawer open, picking up the book that was hastily shoved inside. It was another, a true journal. Not bound like the others.

He picked it up and flipped it to the first page.

“Orianna has given me a sweet gift. Sweeter than she knows. She introduced me to the young woman magic user, and told me that she was going to push the farms into their next phase. Cosmetics. I laughed at first, but when the young woman cornered me, I knew then that Orianna had truly met her match. The woman it seems, had only allied herself with Orianna temporarily. She’d become the duchy’s royal mage ever since her uncle died. She has eyes on the throne, and I find myself burning for her, burning for her destruction and her willingness to go to any lengths to get what she wants. She has told me of a blood, a blood so ancient and so full of power that were I to get but a sip I would be settled for life. No such blood exists of course, but the passionate way she talks about it makes me wonder. Fringilla Vigo will be one to watch.”

Regis snapped the book closed and sat up straight. He found something at last! Suddenly he realized how tired he was, and how famished he was. There was no way to tell what time it was, or how late it was. The clock inside this room had not been wound for quite some time. Geralt and Dettlaff were still asleep.

“Well, I have a starting point at least.” Regis mummbled, standing up and grabbing his bag from the floor. He quickly shoved the book in and hurried out of the office.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God i love fleshing out the vampires.... I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS HOLY CRAP
> 
> What could Geralt and Dettlaff be up too? Hmmmmmmm
> 
> Poor Regis finding out all sorts of crap that upends his world...
> 
> Wonder what else the poor vampire will discover before this is all over.
> 
> As always I love to hear from you guys!!!!!!! comments are always welcome!


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